The Rose of Persia
by ClaryF
Summary: A young Englishwoman and the infamous Angel of Death are thrust together by the bloodthirsty Queen of Persia. Stuck together in a land of mystery and death, the two unlikely companions must survive unimaginable odds in hopes of escaping.
1. Prologue

**Hi, this is my first Phantom story. I hope you like it. This story is going to have elements of Gaston's novel and Susan Kay's Phantom so it's easier to understand if you're at least familiar with both. Most chapters will probably be rated T but it's probably safer to keep it at M for now.**

 **I love reviews and they keep me going :) I also love suggestions and I'm perfectly open to constructive criticism.**

 **I'll probably be updating every week, but I haven't chosen an exact day yet.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except a certain character you'll get to know. Everything belongs to either Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay and Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

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 **PROLOGUE**

 **January 1840, Rouen, France – Erik's POV**

He walked through the dark night, alone, away from his mother's fear and disgust, away from all that harmed him. When she woke up he would be gone, he would never burden her with his horrible visage again. She would be free to marry the doctor who so loved her and he would not be in the way of their happiness. Perhaps they would have children, beautiful children with perfect little faces, children that his mother could love. Or so he hoped.

He never meant to cause his mother pain, he wished only for her contentment and if her happiness lay with another man and another family, he would not stand in the way; could not. His mother had given him life and though he'd rather be dead he understood enough to know that she had sacrificed a lot in raising him instead of drowning him as a babe and he, as the courteous gentleman he had been raised to be, intended to repay her for that sacrifice. That is why he'd left… well, that and the fact that his mother intended on sending him to a mental asylum to be rid of him. He did not want to be in a cage for the rest of his life, thought to be a madman, tortured by people who thought they could heal him. No, he would leave with his freedom and nothing else. It was not right to take anything that his mother had provided except the clothing on his back and his mask. She would forget him and he would die. It was what she had wanted, wasn't it?

The night was cold and bit painfully into his face. The wet clothes he carried with him were not nearly enough to shield him from the cold that permeated the air. His jet-black hair clung painfully to his face, wet with slow as his eyes of molten gold scanned his surroundings. He could hear the wind howl between the dense canopy above him and far away he heard a lone wolf cry out, followed shortly by the echo of his pack.

The snow on the ground was unmarred by human footsteps and, for a moment he felt a sense of guilt at being the one to destroy such perfection. Yet he trudged on, aware that he should go as far from his home as possible. There were hunters in these woods who would kill a creature like him on sight and that was not a pleasant way to die. He may have been willing to leave the land of the living but he still had standards and dying like a wild beast did not meet those standards. He also knew it would be foolish to fight a grown man with a gun so he continued his path to nowhere in particular, just away from the sleepy town he'd once called home, the home that had never welcomed him.

He was grateful that it was too dark for anyone to see him, knowing that it kept him safe. The irony stuck him then, that the darkness that was feared by most was the only thing keeping him away from humanity and he realised in that moment that darkness was his friend shielding him from the garish light that revealed all truths, in which no one can hide. Embraced by darkness he could roam without fear of mockery or scorn, he was free.

Only Sasha would have missed him, but Sasha was dead, killed because of him. He wanted to laugh at the sheer unfairness of it all but if there was one thing he'd learnt in his short life it was that life was not fair. It was painful and brutal and vicious and he hated it. Sasha was innocent, just a kind friend, unable to judge based on appearance, capable only of unshakable love and loyalty, and for that crime her life had been cut short. To love him was a crime punishable by death, he could not be loved and he could not risk loving anyone, for their death would be another guilt he could not bear to carry.

He allowed himself then, for the first time in a very long time, to cry. To cry for the home he'd left behind, the friend he'd lost, the love he could not bring himself to feel. As the tears streamed down his cheeks and his feet continued to move he begged God to kill him. For the God who clearly so despised him to strike him down and end his miserable existence. He tripped over a rock hidden under the snow and fell forward, his leg hitting the rock and a gash forming on his leg which began to bleed.

 _Was this His plan then? To allow me to bleed to death in the snow, so close to the home I was trying to escape? Was this His final punishment? He no longer doubted God's cruelty and capriciousness._ No all loving God would allow suffering like the one he suffered. Perhaps there was no God and everything that had occurred in his life was but a string of unfortunate coincidences. Whatever the answer, he would find out soon as he could feel Death breathing down his neck, its cold touch on his shoulder.

He laughed bitterly as he dragged himself to a tree. He would be dead by morning but he planned to die with dignity and sprawled in the snow just would not do. Sitting against his final resting place he wondered what his crime had been that had led him to this moment. He could not think of anything he could have done to lead to this end, this lonely, miserable end. He supposed he would always be an outcast, shunned by everyone he met. Perhaps even the Devil would turn him away and he would be left in limbo, locked out of the afterlife due to the mistake of his birth. _At least it will be over soon_ , and with that thought he fell into an uneasy sleep, wondering if blood loss or hypothermia would kill him first.


	2. Tehran

**Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter and, as always, reviews keep me going ;). I have decided that I'll be updating every Monday so stay alert on those days.**

 **Quick correction. It was brought to my attention that the date in the last chapter was 1940 but it's actually 1840. That was a typo and has now been corrected so I apologise for any confusion it may have caused. Shout out to Mominator124 for pointing that out and being my first reviewer! Thank you as well to those who favourited and followed the story. You guys are the reason I keep writing!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except a certain character you'll get to know. Everything belongs to either Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay and Andrew Lloyd Webber… blah, blah, blah… we all know the drill.**

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 **CHAPTER 1: TEHRAN  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran, Persia – Erik's POV**

Erik watched the sun setting with a critical eye. Not the most beautiful he had seen in Tehran that spring but ultimately a step up from the dull winter dusks with their lack of kaleidoscopic colouring. This one was decent though slightly tasteless, lacking in the pink and purple hues that were vital for a perfect sunset. It was not worth painting; a shame as tomorrow he would begin his journey to Mazandaran. There, there would be no time for his entertainment and only work would fill his days until he could return to his house in Tehran.

It was important for him to keep an eye on his workers. His palace would be the envy of all other kings and sultans, or so he hoped, but with the imbecilic ignoramuses, he was forced to work with he often wondered if it would end in the perfection he dreamed of. The masked man yearned for perfection in all things he created; no, not yearned, demanded. Though his figure would always lack it, everything he created could be made of it. However, perfection was always a work in progress. His prided palace was first designed when he was a child of eight, ingrained perfectly in his memory through years of torture with the gypsies and humiliation in Russia until he could redesign it, perfecting it with the skills the old master mason, Giovanni, had taught him. Now, after twelve years his masterpiece would be completed and the world would finally glimpse his genius.

A knock on the door disturbed him from his musings. With an angry shout, Erik allowed entrance, expecting a terrified, scurrying servant so he was shocked to find the Daroga at the door. The Chief of Police was dressed impeccably as always in his traditional Persian garb but Erik could see the premature aging that permeated his otherwise proud demeanour. His dying son and deceased wife had made him more cynical and world-weary. Once again, Erik mourned the poor boy, the only child to not fear him despite the many warnings from his those who cared for him while his father was away. The boy's death would hurt him greatly, he knew, though he chose not to dwell on such matters until they came.

"May I trouble you for some tea, my friend?" The Daroga's tone set him on edge but Erik gestured toward the divan.

As Erik made his way to the kitchen he discarded his coat and cravat leaving him only with his linen shirt and breeches and swapped his threatening black mask for a softer white one. The Persian was trustworthy and considered him a friend so he posed no threat to Erik in the current moment.

As he began boiling water in his samovar his thoughts roamed to the odd tone in the Daroga's voice. Something was wrong. The Daroga had told him he was leaving for Ashraf to see his son and thus his continued presence was concerning. What could be so important that it would keep a father from his dying son? Even as he prepared the tea he could not help but worry. Persia was a dangerous place, despite his foolhardy actions Erik knew that very well, and though he did not care much for his life he did enjoy the luxury he bathed in and did not wish to part with it soon. To see the concern in the Daroga's face only served to heighten his unease, because if a man whose job was to watch him was worried, the cause of the concern would undoubtedly fall upon him as well.

When he returned to the parlour, he found the Daroga deep in thought as well, with a concerned frown upon his face, which only acted to enhance the masked man's agitation. The Daroga's brooding was not unusual, especially when thinking of his son but years in the Persian Court had taught him to conceal his emotions so nothing could be used against him in future. However now, Erik could read him like an open book. This unnatural change was something Erik did not like; such a quick change could only come from a very sudden change that would leave one unable to process what was going to happen.

"Why are you not at home, Nadir?" Erik asked, startling the Daroga out of his reverie. Erik knew it was not only because Nadir had not noticed him but also because he ever used the man's name, preferring instead to use his given title. His name was only used in times of urgency or comfort. "Should you not be with your son?" He continued as he handed Nadir a cup of tea and sat on his own chaise lounge.

"I could not go." Erik could feel the distress in his voice as he gripped the teacup tightly and was at that moment sure that his trepidation was more than simply concern for his offspring. "The Shah has ordered I stay for a while longer as he wishes for me to keep an eye on you while you are here."

"Tell the moron that, as he well knows, he has ordered me to leave for Mazandaran tomorrow morning. Therefore, your remaining here is pointless." Erik stated in response, taking a sip of his tea, annoyed at the man-child's pathetic memory. At Nadir's lack of response, Erik finally understood, "Ah, so he no longer wishes for me to go. What has changed his mind so suddenly? Has he bored already of that new girl of his and wishes for new magic tricks for me to entertain him until he finds another? Or is he perhaps she was bored of him. I cannot imagine such a man to be very enter- "

"Erik," The Daroga interrupted, much to Erik's chagrin, "you must stay by order of the Khanum. She wishes to see you and I'm led to believe she has a gift. You know the Shah does not trust you around his mother. He believes you would use her- "

"To gain more power. Yes, I am aware of his accusations toward me, I am not deaf." Erik interjected, laughing in amusement as he drank his tea. The interrupting and bickering was not unusual between the two men as they both enjoyed infuriating the other. "I am also not blind Daroga and am perfectly aware of her beauty." At the scandalised look on the Persian's face, Erik laughed once again and continued, "I am, however, also aware of her manipulative ways and despite her exquisiteness I would not touch her with a ten-foot pole. The woman is repugnant. You mentioned something else though, a gift. What do you know, Daroga?"

"I know nothing other than what I overheard the guards saying. She wishes to give you a gift but what it is, I do not know. Perhaps she merely wishes for another entertainment?" The Daroga was lying. Nadir knew what the Khanum had planned and though Erik wanted nothing more than to force it out of the blasted Persian he could sense that the man would remain tight-lipped. It was not as though Erik wished to torture the man as well, his existence was valuable to him and he wished to keep the poor fellow alive.

"No," Erik finally stated, rising from his seat. He walked toward the window and stared into the dark abyss of night, the moonshine reflecting off his mask, giving him an almost ethereal glow, making him look truly like his title: An Angel of Doom. "If the Khanum wished for a new torture chamber she would not be discreet, she would most likely start describing what she wanted to the last detail. I often wonder why she requests my expertise if she already knows what she wants. But my resentment towards the Khanum is of no consequence at the moment. There is something more, something she is hiding. You know what it is, Daroga," Sensing the Persian's imminent denial he continued, "I know you do. But no matter, I shall undoubtedly learn in time. When does the cursed woman wish to speak to me?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. I will come here to escort you as usual." The Persian responded immediately, to which Erik waved his hand dismissively from his perch near the window. "But Erik, I feel like you may not be able to return to Mazandaran as soon as you wish. Do not ask me to expand, my friend, there is no more information I can give, but you shall have to wait longer than you wish."

Erik sighed dejectedly and chose not to respond, knowing that doing so would be useless. His palace would be delayed and most likely, parts would have to be removed as the construction workers always managed to make mistakes. He only hoped such a delay would be worth it, though he could not imagine how such a thing could happen. What could be more valuable than his greatest pride, the only child he would ever sire?

"When will you be able to leave for Ashraf then?" He asked, at last, turning back to face the Persian man before him.

"I do not know. Hopefully in five days though I dared not ask. The Shah does not take kindly to such requests." Nadir replied quietly, his grief infiltrating the air of the parlour, making it hard for Erik to think rationally. This open display of emotion from the Persian left Erik feeling vulnerable and he didn't know whether to feel pity or annoyance.

"I have something I have been meaning to give you, Nadir." Erik stated, walking to a bookcase and opening a hidden compartment. He removed a small vial and placed it into the Daroga's trembling hands. "It's a painkiller of sorts. It should help your son with the pain, especially when he wishes to sleep. Give him no more than a spoon full every nine hours. It is potent and too much could kill him. If it is effective, come back to me and I shall make more."

"Thank you." The Daroga muttered, overcome with emotion. Erik shuffled uncomfortably, an uncharacteristic gesture for him, who was always confident and elegant in his posture. He was sure the blasted Daroga had noticed his childish behaviour and though the man made no comment, Erik felt embarrassed by his display of weakness. He was a man of grace and felt no measly mortal emotion! So why was this display of gratitude so very powerful to the point where he was forcefully returned to the behaviours of his five-year-old self? "I shall leave you to your work now, my friend. Thank you once again for this, I'm truly grateful." And with that final statement he walked to the door, Erik trailing behind him, intent on playing the polite host despite his mortification at his previous actions. As Erik opened the door for Nadir, the man turned to give one last warning "This gift of the Khanum's, you will not like it but do not refuse it, it may just be your salvation." And with that last remark, he turned the corner and was gone, leaving Erik wondering what he meant.

Erik turned back into his house and returned to the window. Though the sunset was average, the full moon that shone brightly was truly a sight. Erik walked quickly to his room to retrieve his art supplies and returned to the same spot. The art came to him as if an ancient song ingrained in the hearts of all beings. Colours moulded together into a perfect blend or dark hues so common in the night, and the moon and stars shone through, beacons of hope for the lost. Hours later, as he began to pack up his equipment, he looked up and saw the large figure of a Caspian tiger in the distance. Though he did not know why, he added its silhouette to the background of the painting and only then, as the morning began to dawn, did it truly seem complete.


	3. Travels

**Hey guys! Thanks again to those who reviewed, followed and favourited, especially Mominator124!**

 **This is going to be the first chapter from my OC's POV. Tell me what you think!**

 **Also, any comment I may make about the Persians does not in any way reflect my personal beliefs. They reflect my OC's beliefs and she can be a bit of a bigot so please don't get angry.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except Selena. Everything belongs to either Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay and Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

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 **CHAPTER 2: TRAVELS**

 **Spring 1851, Persian Desert – Selena's POV**

The cage bars rattled as the wheels of the caravan hit another hidden rock. Selena's sunburnt skin protested, agonised at the sudden movement that chafed her already sensitive flesh. Her once long raven hair had long ago become lifeless due to the heat. Only her bound wrists were safe from the blazing sun but even they had been rubbed raw by the rough rope that fastened them.

Her wrists had been bound after her numerous escape attempts in which she viciously attacked her captors. The painful welts on her back from the beatings she would receive after each recapture were a painful reminder of her failure. Her ninth attempt had been her most successful, but it had been in that attempt that she learnt that her likelihood of survival was very low to non-existent by herself, especially in the middle of a desert. It had been her final escape, knowing that it would be futile to attempt another, for even if she was not found, she would surely die of thirst or a heatstroke.

In retrospect, she realised that she had been allowed to escape. These men knew this desert but she did not and with the tracks they made instantly covered by sand she could not retrace her steps back home.

Her escape had been silent. At that point, she was only bound by ropes, the cage being used to hold a now deceased criminal, though the crime he was accused of she would never know. He had died during her time away from the camp and she doubted it was of natural causes. The bloodshot eyes and bruised neck made her suspect that an angered guard had strangled him. She often sensed their annoyance at the criminal's comments despite her not understanding any of her kidnappers, perhaps this time his comment had caused more than just annoyance and one of the guards had delivered his wrath upon the arrogant man.

The day prior to her escape she had tugged at her binds until her wrists bled but had succeeded in her attempts. The blood softened the ropes and made it easier to slide them off, pain ignorable when able to taste the sweet fruit of freedom. She waited for an hour to make sure none awakened and then ran to the supply caravan, stealing as much water and food as she could before wrapping it all in a piece of cloth and fleeing into the cool night. She briefly considered stealing a horse but that would be just another creature to keep alive and she could not afford such a burden.

She walked for hours through the never-ending sand dunes, hoping that her path was true. Even as morning dawned she continued walking, knowing that she had to put as much distance between her and her captors as possible since they had the benefit of steeds. They would soon be looking for her and she feared the consequences should she be caught again. Their search for her would undoubtedly delay them and she had seen by the abandonment of one of their own, who had been sick with fever, that they would not take kindly to any delay. Their inhumanity towards one of their own was evident in their unfeeling gazes and she feared for her life. With dread and adrenaline on her side, she walked faster than before.

By noon, hunger and thirst were beginning to hinder her movement so she removed some water and dried meat from her makeshift cloth bag and continued walking, still too afraid to stop. By nightfall, her blistered feet and tired mind begged her to stop and under the shelter of a small bush she fell into an uneasy sleep.

She awoke with panic gripping her heart, the cause of which she did not understand until she was faced with a mighty cobra, slithering over her body. Its apparent disinterest in her was relieving but she remained motionless until it was well away from her person, lest any movement startle it. When she deemed it safe she rose, the morning sun quickly heating the blessedly cool night.

The days continued in a similar fashion and by the thirteenth morning she arrived at the horrifying realisation that she no longer had any water. Dread settled in her stomach. She knew well that she would not be able to survive for more than three days without water but with the heat and constant walking, she was aware that the water she had consumed was evaporating quickly from her body, so the three-day rule would likely be lowered to two if she was very lucky.

For an entire day, she wandered desperately searching for water. By evening she knew she had lost her way, but her desperate struggle for survival overpowered her need to find her family. The vast expanse she found herself in however had nothing. Not even a cactus that promised nourishment should she be able to crack its prickly exterior. At nightfall, she collapsed in the middle of a large sand dune, her weak limbs unable to carry her any longer without sustenance. Her last thoughts were that of prayer, a desperate plea for mercy as darkness consumed her.

Morning shed hope upon Selena's frail body. In the distance, she saw her miracle that the dark had not allowed her to see the night before.

 _Water!_

She saw it glistening amongst the lush trees, a paradise of life amongst the barren desert of death that surrounded her. She thanked her Christian God for the mercy he had bestowed upon her as she walked towards her salvation. The agony she felt from her welts and burns disappeared as her body screamed for the revitalising power of water. Her blessed survival directly ahead of her, the oasis a siren intent of drowning a mesmerised sailor.

She walked for five hours without losing hope. The oasis was right ahead of her in the horizon, she could almost touch it with her fingertips. By the seventh hour she began once again to weaken. Why was it always so far, never getting closer? Was this punishment from God for some unknown crime she had committed? As her knees buckled in desperation for rest she remembered what her father used to tell her about the heat: _when a person, dehydrated, is subjected to too much heat the mind will begin to hallucinate, imagining what the body wishes for the most, water_.

It was all a beautiful illusion then. She had expended the remainder of her energy on a figment of her imagination. Tears fell down her cheeks as she came to the horrifying realisation that she would die in the desert, alone, her flesh eventually consumed, her bones would turn to sand and become part of the land that had destroyed her.

She thought finally of her family. They would never know what became of her, they would search for her for a long time, unaware that she was dead. There would be no requiem, no funeral march for her amongst the vast expanse of the unknown desert she had found herself in. She would die alone and unloved in a foreign country. _Why? What is my sin, oh Lord?_ Even as a shadow of a man filled her vision and her world turned black she cried.

When she awoke she first felt pain. Her head throbbed and her skin burned. Groaning, she opened her sea-green eyes, only to subsequently close them as blinding light filled her vision. _Am I dead_?

With her eyes closed she listened to the sounds around her and was horrified to hear the familiar nuances of her captors' alien tongue. A mix of relief and desperation fell upon her at the realisation that they had found her. She was not dead at least but her fate amongst the unknown men could be far worse. She still did not know what they wanted from her. She assumed she was being given to someone as they had not touched her with the exception of the beatings so what did their employer want from her?

A loud clang startled her, forcing her eyes open as survival instincts took over. She noticed she was in the cage that once held the only other prisoner, though he was nowhere in sight. The group was not moving, which led her to believe they were waiting for her to wake up. The man who had hit the hilt of his blade against the cage bars sneered and spat something at her, which, despite her not knowing their language made her assume he was uttering some rather ungentlemanly words.

However, these men were not like the gentlemen she was used to. They were rougher and more savage, with none of the soft kindness that was familiar. As she watched them, though, she noticed that despite their darker skin they were not so different from the men she knew. Ergo, these men were perhaps not so different from Western aristocrats, merely bound in a different, more dangerous world.

For a moment, she pitied them, though it was quickly smothered by hatred as she saw the man removing the dreaded cane that had caused her so much pain from the back of his horse's saddle. This time she suspected they would beat her with more force than ever before and as tears pooled to her sore eyes, she forced them down. She would not give them the satisfaction!

The first man opened the cage doors and dragged her out. Though her mind was lucid her body was still weak and her legs gave in immediately, forcing the guard to drag her to another man. The second man held her up as the first reached for the cane. She did not know how many times they hit her, she lost count after she reached twenty-five. She could feel the blunt force of wood striking her spine and ribs, cracking open her previous welts allowing blood to pour down her back. Despite her resolution to stay strong she began to cry, the pain and misery of her situation haunting her. Eventually they took pity of her and dragged her half-conscious to the cage.

As they dragged her back she noticed something she had not seen before. Sprawled on the sand rested the body of the criminal who previously occupied the cage. The shock of what she saw consumed the energy she had left and as the ground swayed below her, her vision turned black.

Days continued in a similar fashion and as the company continued in procession towards an unknown destination, she thought of home.

She missed the cool, dreary weather of England after weeks of only seeing desert sand. The lush green of home was nostalgic for the first time in her life. She missed all the things she had once hated and cursed herself for taking them for granted. How could she not see the beauty of the pouring rain during a storm, the lightning lighting the night for only a moment? How could she have hated and feared such a miracle of nature?

She thought also of her parents. Her mother, kind but demanding, who she had fought with so often; and her father, her amazing father, who valued her and raised her to be strong and determined despite the frowns thrown their way because of it. Her elder sister, Anne, who despite always being aloof loved her family dearly. John and Elizabeth, her younger siblings who always looked up to her. Her young twin sisters, Mary and Margret, always causing mischief and giving father premature grey hairs. Her baby brother, Philip, who would most likely be too young to comprehend her disappearance. Oh, how worried they would be knowing nothing of her and whether or not she lived.

She was startled from her reverie when one of the men gave a happy shout. In the distance, she saw an amazing palace and was certain at that moment that it was not an illusion created by her mind. The structure radiated golds and whites and lush gardens surrounded the magnificent structure. She could also see the smaller houses of the people who lived in the city. Never had she seen such elegance, not even in the palaces of her country. They had arrived in whatever place she was destined to go and she hoped beyond hope that this would not be the place where she met her ultimate demise.


	4. The Khanum

**Back again and I hope you enjoy! I'm posting this chapter a couple of hours early because I won't be able to post tomorrow :)**

 **I must admit, I'm kinda disappointed that only one person has reviewed (Thank you, Mominator124 once again. You're amazing!) when I've had so many more people view it but I will continue to indulge you.**

 **Anyway, I did some research on the Persian Shah of the time, Naser al-Din Shah Qajar and his mother Malek Jahān Khānom. After careful consideration, I decided to take some creative license and change some of the facts, mainly the character's ages because I felt it would better suit my narrative. Just so you're aware that I know it's wrong and it's on purpose :).**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except Selena. Everything belongs to either Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay and Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

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 **CHAPTER 3: THE KHANUM  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran – Selena's POV**

Her captors led her through the gates of the palace, now on foot, as the caravan was left with servants at the city entrance. As she crossed the threshold, the true grandeur of the city was revealed to her. White marble covered almost all surfaces with gold foil decorating it in flower-like patterns. The architecture was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. It was far more elegant than any Western palace, with its intricate designs and colours that radiated warmth and wealth.

The true beauty of the palace, however, was its gardens. After weeks in the blistering desert, the green grass decorated with exotic flowers and trees was a welcome change. The gardens extended in an endless continuum, twisting and turning in elaborate patterns around the palace walls. In the centre, a fountain sparkled proudly with the reflection of the sun on its pure surface. The place was quiet and calm, purely beautiful, allowing Selena to temporarily forget her own fear and uncertainty.

The magnificence before her contrasted greatly with the dusty and impoverished peasant houses that she crossed on her way. They appeared to have once been elegant, if modest, structures, but now they were mere shells of their own existence, the hard winds of time deteriorating the pearls they once contained. It saddened her to see such suffering right next to such riches. She was certain they worked hard, judging by what she had seen on the way, but for them, there was no reward. As she began contemplated how much better the treatment of peasants was in her own country she stopped… were they really treated that much better? She would not know, not really. She rarely went to the poor areas, only when leaving the city and in those times, she kept the curtains of her well-polished carriage closed to avoid seeing the dirty streets, a scented handkerchief protecting her nose from the rancid smells outside. Was she really any better than those who inhabited the palace before her?

"حرکت!" One of her captors grunted at her pushing her forward and breaking her out of her reverie. It was the same one who had taken so much pleasure in flogging her raw, so she shuffled forward quickly, fearing his wrath.

The palace interior was just as grand as its exterior, embellished with lavish furniture and Persian carpets that emitted colour and clarity into the rooms. Each room in itself was unique, with different colour patterns, functions and ages, seeming almost as if some had evolved over time, whereas others had remained as they were when the palace was first built. A particular room she passed appeared so ancient that she feared for anyone who sat on one of the chairs might break them, as the appeared so fragile. The antique table was beautifully carved, but its weary legs were brittle after years of holding such a heavy burden. The ancient wood spoke of the age of the city in which she now resided and her awe increased at its obvious long history.

They reached a long corridor and at its end waited two other men, obviously guards, who though obviously not related, still looked disturbingly similar. One was several inches taller than the other but they both seemed to lack the usual muscle definition that one found in guards and were both bald, though whether this was due to age or shaving remained a mystery to Selena. They were dressed in identical green flowing gowns that appeared to be the typical male dress style of the East.

The two men looked at her up and down before sharing a knowing look with her captors and transferred her weight to their broad soldiers, carrying her with them towards a closed door opposite the one she had just entered, which lead to an open courtyard. It was beautiful! A grand fountain spewed water in the centre and large trees covered the outer rims of the area. The ground was covered in lush grass and bright flowers, only interrupted by four stone paths that led from the centre of the fountain to four exits, one of which was the place in which she and the guards where standing. Around the courtyard, past the large trees, an open hallway skirted the perimeter, passing through the four doors, clearly useful in case of rain, though the doubted it rained often in the desert.

On the grass and on stone benches were seated over a dozen tanned, dark-haired women, all with veils over their faces, chattering amongst each other non-stop. It had been so long since she had heard joyous talk and mirthful laughter that hearing it almost seemed foreign and unnatural. Some women stopped speaking to look and her, but quickly lost interest and resumed their conversation, as if seeing an injured girl being dragged by two guards was an everyday occurrence.

The guards turned left leading her through the shaded area to the second door, directly opposite to where she had been standing before. It seemed like the largest and most grandiose entry, large and covered in golden foil, decorated with complex images of flowers and birds. The shorter guard opened the door, and Selena was granted with the sight of many more women on plush seats and cushions talking, much like in the garden. In the centre of the room sat a dark-haired woman who stood out from the rest, with her colourful, carefully weaved clothing and the top-quality divan she lounged on, eating grapes that were held up for her by a shaking maid.

The woman clearly held the most power in the room and it was clear all the other women feared her terribly, as they trembled when she addressed them and hurried to reply to her questions and meet her demands in their foreign tongue. Even Selena feared this woman. She was very small and fragile looking, likely in her late 20's or early 30's but there was a glint in her eyes that spoke of cruelty and brutality. She seemed like a woman who would gladly watch an innocent child die for her amusement, or watch a friend be tortured because they bored her. Selena saw in her eyes for the first time something akin to pure evil and she bowed her head submissively to the woman as her guards threw her onto the floor.

She heard the woman call for something and then heard a much older voice ordering in English for her to rise. Selena rose hesitantly, her back groaning in protest, looking up to see the English speaker, an older lady, possibly in her fifties, standing behind the Khanum, who continued to lounge casually on her divan, looking down at her. The older woman was dressed in fine dark blue silks, with a patterned veil covering all but her eyes. Her tanned skin was visible at the arms and hands, which she clasped together. She stood tall, with a confidence and pride that reminded Selena of her late grandmother.

"You stand before Her Ladyship the Khanum, Mother of the Shah of Persia, favourite Wife of the late Shah. I, Bahar, will translate for you." she paused as the Khanum said something, smirking in amusement. "Her Ladyship welcomes you to this Court and hopes you had a safe and pleasant travel. She understands the weather is quite different in your country and the travel is a harrowing one." It was at that moment that Selena realised why the Khanum was so amused. She knew. She knew that Selena had suffered and found it amusing. Selena's stomach churned as she realised the full extent of this woman's viciousness.

Bahar walked away from the Khanum's side to stand just before Selena, her gait assertive but dignified. "You will come with me. You will be dressed appropriately, fed and I will clarify your purpose here." And with that she bowed to the Khanum and walked away, beckoning for Selena to follow her. Selena curtsied awkwardly, her blistered back making it hard for her to move and followed Bahar, leaving a chuckling queen behind.

Bahar's pace was brisk and Selena struggled to keep up. They walked through a maze of corridors, often occupied by more women, chatting or carrying out chores of various kinds. She finally caught a glimpse of children, running around and playing with toys, naïve to the death around them. The place seemed unusually lacking in men, however, with only the guards in sight.

"Excuse me," she murmured to Bahar. Her voice was weak and ragged and she realised at that moment that it had been weeks since she last spoke to anyone. Bahar made a non-committal sound but did not slow down, "there are no men here other than the guards. I was wondering…"

"We are in a harem child," Bahar scoffed, "it is strictly reserved for women, namely the Shah's wives, concubines and servants. The only men you will find here are the eunuchs, whose job is to protect us from unwanted attention. I would advise you in future to not speak unless spoken to. Most here would not take kindly to such disrespect and it would end painfully for you. However, I will grant you permission to speak to me freely as it is my duty to educate you on our life."

"Why am I here then?" Selena asked, rushing to stand beside the older woman. Bahar gave her a sideways glance and sighed.

"I suppose that is the main question. Unfortunately, it is also one that I am not allowed to answer as of yet. However, I must ask, do you speak French?" Selena's disappointment was overshadowed by her surprise at the question.

"Yes, I can speak it, though I am not completely fluent. Why is the question of any relevance?" She asked, curious. _Why would I need to speak French in Persia?_

"The answer to that question would involve answering your first one. You will know in time." Bahar replied as two guards opened large, wooden double doors. On the opposite side was a large bedroom, complete with a desk, a bookshelf and in the centre a king-sized bed, all coloured in red and mahogany themes. It looked unusually European. On the right wall was a small door, leading presumably to a bathroom. "These will be your quarters. The Khanum hopes that it is familiar and that you will remain comfortable. You are not to leave unless instructed to. I will be your mentor and will spend most days in here with you. First allow me to dress your wounds." She stated motioning Selena towards the bed. Everything the woman said seemed oddly rehearsed and Selena wondered if it was truly so.

Bahar dressed her wounds in silence, placing a cooling ointment and fresh bandages. As the pain subsided from Selena's back a young maid who could be no more than fourteen entered, carrying a large tray of food. Selena ate her stew and bread like a starved man… well woman, which she supposed she was, only interrupting periodically to drink water. Bahar ate in a far more civilised manner, taking small bits of bread, though she gave no indication of disgust at Selena's lack of manners.

"So, I assume you have more questions?" Bahar asked as they finished their meal. As she waited for Selena's reply she rang a bell and the same maid entered immediately, removing the leftover food. As she turned to leave, she met Selena's eyes and they were filled with such fear and pity that a tingle of dread rolled down her spine.

"Yes," Selena answered. She meant to sound confident but her voice came out small and weak, "why is the maid afraid of me?" Bahar didn't answer, merely looking squarely at Selena. And then it hit her, "She isn't afraid of me. She's afraid for me." Bahar's silence was enough confirmation and Selena sprinted towards the door, panic overtaking her. Bahar must have predicted her movements because Selena didn't get far before she felt a pair of hands grab her wrists and drag her backwards. Selena fought against her binds ferociously, crying and screaming like a wild animal. Eventually her movements subsided, leaving her still and hyperventilating, begging Bahar for mercy.

"Please, please help me… escape. I don't… want to die… I want… to go home." Her phrases came out jagged due to her laboured breathing but Bahar understood. She let go of the younger woman's wrists and moved to stand in front of her.

"It's impossible to escape. Many have tried and all have failed. The punishment for such an attempt is far more brutal than you can imagine and will leave you begging for death. I cannot help you escape. I can, however, help you learn what to expect so you can survive with your sanity. And who knows, perhaps it will not be so bad. It appears that tonight is not the best day to begin. I suggest you sleep. I will come here tomorrow." With that she left.

Selena dragged herself to her bed, forgoing a change of clothes and hit under the soft covers as she did when she was scared as a child. She knew, however, that this time her father would not be there to comfort her and sing away her fears. This time she was alone. Tears poured down her face as she cried for the life she had lost and the life that awaited her as sleep consumed her.

* * *

 **Translations:**

حرکت **!** **= Move!**


	5. Lessons

**Thanks for the reviews guys! You're truly the best! Shoutouts to** **Mominator124 as always but also to daae00, chrissymama and my lovely guest reviewer. I can't respond to guest reviews through PM's (unfortunately) so I'd just like to thank you for your review and I'm glad you're enjoying it so far.**

 **I know Erik has been gone for a while and I promise you'll see him again soon. I also know that there is a demand for Erik and Selena to meet and promise that will happen soon as well.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except Selena. Everything belongs to either Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay and Andrew Lloyd Webber… unfortunately…**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4: LESSONS  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran – Selena's POV**

Selena woke to the sound of curtains being drawn. The light that instantly hit her eyes made her groan and hide under the covers.

"Mary, tell father that I won't be down for breakfast. I just had the most horrid dream." She ordered her maid, hiding further into the covers.

"Who's Mary?" Bahar's voice rang soundly in the room and Selena shot out of bed to look at her surroundings. Her back's groans of protest at her sudden movement were enough to make her realise that nothing had been a dream. As she looked around her room and back at Bahar she felt like crying, all hopes that the whole affair was just a horrible nightmare shattered. Bahar looked at her sympathetically as she realised the girl's confusion, "I am certain that you wish to return home to your father and this Mary woman but you cannot. All you can do now is be strong, child. No more tears, no more prayers. They will not help you here."

"You are not religious?" Selena asked Bahar, surprised. To be an infidel was already a mortal sin, but to deny religion altogether was another matter entirely.

"I am. I am Muslim. Nonetheless, I have lived in this place long enough to know that no god will help you here so your only faith should be in yourself. Do not trust anyone. Anyone could be a spy or using you for their own means." Bahar stated gravely, turning towards a wardrobe and removing an array of fine green silks.

"So, I shouldn't trust you." It wasn't a question. Selena slipped out of bed and walked towards Bahar, "You're a spy for the Khanum."

Bahar smirked as she turned to face the younger woman, "You learn quickly, child. There may yet be hope for you." Selena opened her mouth to reply but Bahar interrupted, "I am expected to relay everything to the Khanum and do as I'm bid but I am also your tutor here. The Khanum's main interest is on how you adapt to our world, not the small details. She wants you to fail and to perish. I'd rather you survive and will help you do so. To do that, however, you must appear delicate but be strong. Your mind is your greatest asset. In a world where everyone expects you to fail, the most unexpected thing you can do is succeed. Keep that in mind."

"If everyone wants me to fail, why don't you?" Selena asked as Bahar led her to the bathroom where a warm bath was already drawn and Selena guessed someone had done it before she woke up.

"Because I was like you once." Bahar sighed as she helped Selena remove her ripped and dirty dress. "I was a commoner who caught the attention of an important nobleman and was brought to the harem as his concubine. I was younger than you and I was scared. But I learned to survive, and my natural talent in languages interested the Khanum and so, after I ceased to be of interest to the nobleman, I became the Khanum's personal translator."

"Why would your parents allow you to be taken?" Selena asked, taken aback. The warmth of the bath soothed her aching muscles and she began gently scrubbing weeks of grime from her skin.

"They did not have much of a choice. Any resistance from them or from me could have resulted in all our deaths. Plus, it's considered a great honour to a family to be chosen by someone of such a high rank. My parents were in fact overjoyed. I'm afraid to say that I did not share the same excitement. It was true that I have safety but I have no freedom." A yearning tone laced her words and Selena suddenly felt a twinge of pity building for this poor woman, whose liberty was stolen by the lust of a man. "Anyway, I am here to teach you, not reminisce about what could have been. Today I will teach you about how to address others, how to dress and your duties within a household. Where would you like to begin?"

And so, it began. Selena learnt about the Persian dress style. She honestly thought it was indecent and that was being polite about it. Women were expected to wear trousers? Despite their flair, they were nevertheless men's clothing. How could they claim modesty? Bahar laughed at Selena's diffidence though she did not seem surprised. In the end, she still managed to dress the younger woman in some green harem pants and a matching long-sleeved top, covered by a long overcoat that Selena decided was moderately decent and was soft enough that it didn't hurt her wounded back too much.

For the rest of the day, Bahar taught her the proper way of addressing those around her, primarily because, as an immigrant with no friends or influence, she was at the bottom of the social ladder. Therefore, she would be expected to address everyone by their specific titles and could not speak unless addressed to first. The only ones below her were the servants, who she could treat as she pleased with no fear of repercussion. The change from the daughter of an Earl, at the top of the hierarchy, to the bottom was unnatural to her and she struggled to accept her new position. Although not many understood English, it was still vital that she use the correct titles through the translator because if someone were to overhear her, she could be severely punished and Bahar made it clear that she would not be able to help. Though she wished to help Selena to survive, she would not risk her own life or position to do so.

By Selena's insistence, she was also taught simple Farsi phrases that she could use and understand. Though she proved a slow learner, she still gruellingly studied the phrases, accompanied by an ever-patient Bahar, in the hopes that she might overhear something relating to her fate. Though she knew it was a long-shot, she was still determined to try everything within her power to find out, her curiosity outweighing her fear of the consequences.

Bahar then taught Selena the duties that she was expected to fulfil within a household, especially those regarding cooking and cleaning, giving Selena various recipes that she mentioned were liked by those at court and helped her translate them into English. Selena would not be required to do any of the chores should servants be around but otherwise she was expected to master both skills; a challenge to a woman who had never done either in her life. Selena found it odd that, if all women lived in a harem with servants, she would be required to cook and clean at any point but accepted that it was likely a mere precaution.

After a gruelling day of learning and acceptance, Bahar allowed her to sleep, warning her that she would be there early in the morning to prepare her to meet the Khanum and, should the Khanum deem her ready, Selena would meet her fate the next afternoon. With fear creeping out from the darkest recesses of her mind she fell into an uneasy sleep, awakening often during the night, with forgotten nightmares haunting her. Only one did she remember after she awoke.

Her dreams were choppy and confusing, progressing with emotion rather than logic. A darkened shadow chased her through a vast expanse of desert. Despite the burning of dehydration on her throat and her cramping limbs she kept running, too afraid to stop or look back. Her back stung as if a thousand whips were falling on it in one fluid motion but she continued at the same pace through blurred eyes and burning sand, the dark shadow ever-present. She closed her eyes in an attempt to clear them and when they opened again the shadow was before her. She skidded to a stop and fell before it, looking up at its chilling, smoky appearance in terror. She tried to run but was paralysed and could only watch as the figure bend down and engulfed her.

She awoke in cold sweat with a hand shaking her vigorously. She looked up to see Bahar's worried face looking down at her. Bahar continued to watch in concerned silence as Selena burst into tears, only rubbing her back occasionally as if knowing that nothing she said could sooth the terrified girl before her.

As Selena calmed, Bahar helped her out of bed and to a wash basin to wash her face of the tears that coated her face. Bahar then dressed her wounds with an ointment of some sort and bandages before dressing her in moderately decent Persian clothing of an aqua blue colour.

Selena was still shaking when breakfast was brought by a small maid, who scuttled away quickly like a small mouse after depositing the food on a nearby table. It was a simple meal of bread and cheese, for which Selena was grateful as she very much doubted she would be able to stomach much more. Bahar ate beside her, still refraining from saying a word. Remembering her manners, Selena muttered a small good morning in Farsi, which was reciprocated by Bahar with a small smile before the meal lapsed once again into silence.

After the meal, she was quickly reminded of the correct ways of addressing her superiors before being led to the courtyard she had been in only two days prior, except this time by a less imposing escort. Nevertheless, she received similar stares from the other women, whose curiosity had not dulled at all since their previous encounter, her nervousness increasing with every step.

As they once again entered the Khanum's chamber, Selena's nerves were already frayed. The imposing woman was once again sitting in the divan, this time wearing a dark crimson and gold as if it had been dyed from the blood of her victims and melded in their wealth.

As she was taught, she kneeled before the Khanum and extended her arms on the floor, entirely at the woman's mercy, only rising at Bahar's word. She stood gingerly and clasped her hands before her still looking at the ground as if awaiting a death sentence as the Khanum sat silently and watched the fidgeting creature before her as if looking at an ant under a microscope; the court remained silent; an entity holding its breath.

The exhale came after what felt like an eternity to Selena but was most likely only a few seconds. The Khanum rose and walked towards Selena, circling her a couple of times, judging her reactions. Selena, to her credit, remained virtually still under the examination, never looking up, much to the Khanum's annoyance.

The woman returned to her divan and sat down exactly as she had been before while addressing Bahar, who had stayed beside Selena the whole time but had not been required to kneel due to her superior status. Bahar bowed to the woman and turned to Selena, gently leading her away. Selena copied Bahar's movements without ever lifting her head from the marble floor and allowed herself to be dragged away.

The return to her rooms was silent and the both mulled over the Khanum's silent judgement, too afraid to speak lest they be overheard by existing spies. Only after they were safely within Selena's rooms did she dare to break the silence.

"What did she say?" She asked sullenly, dreading the answer.

"She said you are ready. Tomorrow you shall meet him." Bahar replied emotionlessly.

Selena gulped back the panic that was about to overtake her, "Meet whom?"

Bahar hesitated as if preparing herself for "He's known by many names: The Magician, The Devil, The Angel of Death… You are to be his concubine."

For a while, Selena could only stare, unsure if she should laugh at the cruel joke or cry at the new revelation. Bahar's stoic appearance, however, left no room for doubt. It wasn't a joke. _I should've just died in that desert._ Tears poured down her cheeks as she clung onto Bahar as if doing so would give her strength to face the next day.


	6. The Gift

**Hey guys! Thank you to everyone who favourites and followed! Erik has returned to you as promised. I hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a review. My parrot is turning two tomorrow and I'm sure he'd love to know that people appreciate this story. After all, he does play a big role in writing it by plucking out the keys and biting my fingers when he's bored of waiting for attention :).**

 **Warning: This chapter does mention drug use. I don't condone it, but it did use to be a common and acceptable thing to do. As a friend of mine says "drug use is basically the only thing that has become more taboo since the Victorian era." Anyway, don't do drugs kids, it's bad.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except Selena. Everything belongs to either Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay and Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5: THE GIFT  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran – Erik's POV**

Erik paced his parlour restlessly, only pausing intermittently to stare accusingly at the parchment sitting innocently on its stand. After not touching a musical instrument for months, the haunting prospect of the Khanum's gift made his fingers itch for a new composition. It was meant to be a simple piece, fit for the innocent ears of children but inspiration eluded him. He had reached an impasse, his dread haunting his concentration, stopping him from continuing his music.

His anxiety was only heightened by the thought of the disaster that Mazandaran would be when he arrived. He could clearly picture the bumbling workers and architects, fumbling to understand his genius. Moreover, he constantly changed the plans slightly so that no one ever truly knew what its design was or where the secret passages were. Then there were the other secret passages that only he, and not even the Shah, would know of so that he could spy on whoever he chose to.

Sighing in annoyance, he sat heavily upon an armchair, his posture unusually slouched, and continued to brood over the previous day's events while watching the small rays of sunlight peek from the horizon. The Khanum had something cruel planned, of that he had no doubt. What it was he could not imagine and it troubled his weary mind.

Stress and frustration eventually dragged him to his hookah, already prepared with opium for his use. Despite his promise to himself that he would cease using the blasted drug, his body would not allow it and the veil of peacefulness it brought was far too tempting for him to resist. His actions would later be regretted, that he did not doubt, but he was too weary to care at the present time and allowed the drug to quiet his restless mind, eventually drifting into a light slumber.

He startled awake at the sound of footsteps approaching his apartments. He had chosen an isolated and abandoned wing of the palace, claiming the entirety to himself. Had anyone else made such a demand they would have most likely been assassinated but Erik's value far outweighed that of an unused wing and so the Shah had graciously allowed it.

The isolation allowed Erik to hear any disturbances to his peace so that any threat could be easily overheard. A few structural alterations also enhanced any outside sounds while muffling those within his quarters, so that he could easily hear out but other could not hear in.

The footsteps were undoubtedly the daroga's, his steady gait easily detectable in a crowd. Groaning, Erik lifted himself unsteadily from his armchair, stretching his aching muscles and attempted to clear his foggy mind. It would not do to appear dishevelled before the Persian, much less so before the Khanum.

This time Nadir did not bother to knock, most likely expecting Erik to be lying on the floor somewhere in a drug-induced haze. That had once occurred when he came to check on his young friend, though due to the effect of the drugs Erik did not remember the event and Nadir did not see a valid reason to remind the prideful boy.

Erik watched the Persian walk in unannounced. Under most circumstances, he would have found the daroga's abuse of the keys Erik had gifted him a great offence but at the present time he found himself too somnolent to feel anything more than mild annoyance.

Erik decided not to bother with formalities and instead gestured only vaguely to the daroga's usual seat before retaking his place in the armchair, his head beginning to pound furiously at his cranium.

"Must we go now?" he asked simply, wiling his growing headache away.

The daroga was glancing distastefully at the hookah that still sat innocently on a side table, only looking up to respond, "No, but I suspected you would be in a bad state. I guessed correctly it would seem," he stated glancing again at the hookah, "You never do take kindly to having your artistic plans halted." He then looked at Erik's bloodshot eyes, "You should have a drink, it will make you feel better."

Erik nodded his assent before walking gingerly to the liquor cabinet, as the daroga watched in horror, getting up to snatch a bottle of whiskey out of Erik's eager hands.

"Of water, you fool. A drink of water. Adding more poison to your body will do you no good." He sighed deeply while replacing the bottle on its shelf before walking to the kitchen and filling a glass of water.

Erik followed his movements listlessly and returned to his seat, waiting for whatever the daroga wanted to tell him. His headache felt like it was crushing his skull and, like many times before, he swore he would never touch opium again.

The daroga returned with a steaming mug which Erik guessed was a tea. The smell told him it contained ginger and lemongrass at least. He was too tired to question it and allowed the daroga to hand him the warm drink, which he began to sip as he watched the daroga's return to his seat.

"What time is it then?" Erik asked, deciding for the final time that he would have to install a clock in his parlour.

"Around noon," Nadir replied, "It gives us about three hours before you are expected by the Khanum. By then you should be feeling well enough to deal with the woman's manipulations."

Erik looked objectionably at the daroga, "I could outwit that woman in my sleep. If she were half as intelligent as she believes she is, she would be twice as intelligent as she actually is."

Despite the joke, the daroga remained unamused. "You and I both know that is not the case, and it does not do to underestimate your enemies, Erik. You should know that better than –"

"It was a jest, Daroga. You are truly the most tedious creature I have ever encountered. Now, shall we play a game of chess? I can prove to you that I am completely in control of my faculties," Erik replied, finding the situation exaggeratingly amusing. He decided to blame it on the after-effects of the opium.

The daroga accepted, shaking his head in exasperation. The one game turned into five, all of which Erik easily won, using it to assist his belief that he was completely sober, though the daroga continued to look at him sceptically, After the fifth game he excused himself to prepare himself for his meeting with the Khanum.

Erik removed his mask, cleaning his face with cold water and smoothing his hair back. It was getting long and he would need to cut it soon but had been avoiding it due to sheer idleness. He then dressed in a dark suit with matching gloves and a black face mask, finishing by tying his Punjab lasso to a strap on his belt so that the only visible skin was a small portion of his neck. He exited the safety of his bedchambers to find the daroga waiting at the door of his apartments, holding it open.

They walked side by side in a comfortable silence towards the harem, situated on the opposite side of the palace. Erik suspected it was another reason his wing had been surrendered so easily. The Shah already disliked his mother's willingness to allow him into the female sanctuary, thus making sure he stayed as far from it as possible was a necessity for the Shah as he did not want his family or lovers to be taken from him by the Devil. Erik snorted in amusement at the Shah's self-flattery, prompting the daroga to give him an odd look that he pointedly ignored. _As if I would be interested in anything he's touched._

He approached the harem's doors, which the eunuchs opened for him and left the daroga behind with only a small nod in his direction. Despite the daroga's high position in court, he was still banned from the harem unless a catastrophic attack were to occur. Unfortunately, such an attack had not yet happened. Erik would not have mourned the untimely death of the Khanum.

He ignored the women's sidelong glances as they hurriedly shuffled away from him, used to the repulsed stares they gave him. It was of no matter. The old were insipid, the young were plain and all of them were horribly dull, only capable of speaking of the weather and fashion. He preferred more humorous company, capable of battling his quick wit with enthusiasm. He had yet to find such a companion and doubted he ever would.

The Khanum sat on her divan as usual, doing her best to accentuate her features and Erik resisted the urge to gag _. Does the woman's sadism know no bounds?_

"Ah, my favourite Magician has finally arrived," she stated with a childlike enthusiasm as he walked towards her. As always, he did not even incline his head, and as always, she did not seem to mind. "What brings you to the softer side of the palace? Perhaps you are bored of your brutish ways and require some… relaxation."

"You requested my presence," Erik replied smoothly, not in the mood for the witch's mockery.

"Did I?" she asked a servant that stood holding a plate of fruits, who merely continued to look down, "Oh yes, yes I did. I remember now."

Erik's patience was wearing thin. "With all due respect," he said sardonically, "I am a busy man and have the roles of architect, magician and executioner to fulfil. If you have ordered me here merely to jest, I shall take my leave. I am certain any of your ladies would be more than happy to entertain you."

"Oh, aren't you in a foul mood today." The Khanum laughed. "Do you not want your gift?" At Erik's impassive expression she merely cackled. "Come now Erik, you need only ask."

"If you wanted to give it to me now you would have already done so," Erik replied. "Would you not?"

The Khanum sighed in annoyance, "You are impossible to deceive. It is both your best and worst quality. I shall continue to try, however."

"You may continue to try if you believe it worth your time."

The Khanum's patience appeared to be wearing as thin as Erik's. "If you insist on being so very disagreeable you may take your leave," the Khanum huffed. "I hope to see you again soon. I will have your gift brought to you tonight."

Erik merely inclined his head in response before taking his leave. As he turned, he saw many curious faces that appeared to be attempting to understand the scene unfolding before them turn quickly to resume their activities, hoping that they had not been noticed. He always wondered how so many imbeciles managed to survive due to pure stupidity.

He walked out of the harem to find the daroga still waiting for him who, upon noticing Erik's foul mood, offered his excuses, stating that he had business to attend to. For once, Erik thanked his annoying carer's perception.

He returned quickly to his apartments, finding solace in his extensive library, deciding upon a book on rare herbal medicines. Though most he already knew, and some were completely bogus, there were some that were new. He wrote down the names of the herbs, planning to procure them at a later date and study their effectiveness.

Bored and still riddled with the remains of his headache, he sat for a long time contemplating what he could do next. He briefly considered returning to his music but he still found himself lacking in inspiration. Instead, he opted to do something he rarely did willingly: nothing.

He sat in his armchair and thought about everything. His life, his hopes, the dreams he dared not dream. He thought of his mother, of Madame Perrault, of Sasha, Javert, Giovanni, Luciana. He thought of all the countries he had travelled to, their similarities, their differences, their beauty, their horrors. Most of his thoughts were dark and bleak but shining like lanterns were the small good things that had happened. Much like a lantern, however, they quickly flickered and died away, leaving him once again in the murky darkness that was his life.

He sat for so long that he lost track of all time and space before him until the daroga's distinctive knock roused him. He noticed, however, by the sounds outside, that the daroga was not alone. He could hear at least three more living creatures. Two were definitely guards, judging by the clinking of their armour. The last he could not identify, knowing only that it was likely to be a child, judging by the quietness of his movements.

Erik lifted himself from the armchair, annoyed that the gift was likely to be a servant, despite his many protests that he did not need one. Especially one who was so unwilling to come that he had to be dragged by guards.

His predictions were horrifically wrong, when, as he opened the door he saw first the daroga, standing aloofly, though Erik could detect the turbulence in his eyes. Behind him stood two guards as expected. Between them was not a young boy, however, there was a girl who appeared to be European, dressed entirely in Persian garb, looking decisively at the ground though she was noticeably trembling.

The girl was small, the top of her head barely brushing his shoulder, with raven hair, not unlike his own, that only accentuated her pale features. She was clad in deep crimson and despite her apparent beauty he felt only pity for the poor girl who was likely terrified and on the verge of swooning.

Realisation dawned and Erik resisted the urge to go to the Khanum and strangle the godforsaken woman.

Knowing there was not much he could do he stepped aside to allow the small procession passage into his once peaceful domain.


	7. Angel of Death

**They've met… sort of… Selena hasn't actually looked at him yet.**

 **I forgot to mention it before but I tend to put some quotes from either the novels or musicals in most of my chapters so if you ever find any leave it in the reviews and if you are correct you get a snippet card ;)**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except Selena. Everything belongs to either Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay and Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6: ANGEL OF DEATH  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran – Selena's POV**

Bahar had dressed Selena in the most indecent red she had ever encountered, only made worse by its revealing cut that showed far too much skin for Selena's liking. Despite her horror, she was perfectly aware why such an outfit had been chosen and shuddered at the thought.

Selena had considered many options throughout the night including escape and even the mortal sin of suicide but Bahar, likely understanding her position, advised her to bide her time, to understand the Persian ways if she were to have any chance of survival, even if it meant losing her purity.

With her survival instincts taking precedence over her fears she allowed Bahar to hand her to a man she introduced as Nadir Khan, and two guards who would accompany her.

The guards' faces could not be seen behind their helmets but Mr Khan was wearing only minimal armour. He was shorter than most men she had seen and appeared to be in his 30's. Despite the brutality of Persia, there was an air of kindness about him that relaxed Selena. He looked at her with something akin to sympathy and nodded, though he did not seem as concerned for her as everyone else. Why would such a kindly man allow her to be carried towards her doom was beyond her comprehension?

She said her goodbyes to Bahar as Mr Khan waited surprisingly patiently. When she deemed herself ready, he began to lead the way and Selena followed, the guards behind her to prevent any escape attempts.

The walk across the palace felt like a funeral procession to her. They walked slowly but Selena found herself disinterested in the colourful gardens and intricate interiors around her, preferring instead to look at the ground as if looking ahead meant staring at her future in the face.

They strode for a while, reaching an empty and desolate wing that, despite its beauty, looked like a tomb. Their steps echoed menacingly as they climbed the steps that would likely lead to the Angel of Death's rooms.

She continued to look stubbornly at the ground as the man opened the door, seeing only his perfectly polished shoes. Even as the man granted them entrance, she did not look up.

The man and Mr Khan talked briefly and she was surprised by the melodious baritone that she heard, especially when contrasted with Mr Khan's tired, hoarse voice. The voice sounded like that of an angel, not a devil. Then again, even the Devil was once an angel and it was dangerous to underestimate someone's cruelty. She had learnt that from the Khanum.

Curiosity finally forced her hand and she looked at the man who would now control her future. Nevertheless, though she may have lost control of her fate, she refused to give him the satisfaction of believing so. So, she looked up while giving him the most furious look she could muster. It must have faltered immediately, however, when she looked at him.

She had expected a Persian like those she had already seen but before her stood an abnormally thin and tall man whose face was completely covered by a black mask, only his piercing golden eyes adding colour to his otherwise sombre appearance. He was clearly European though she did could not discern from where. He looked down at her, though his mask impeded her from determining what he was feeling.

He was unlike any man she had ever met.

Nadir Khan looked once between the two of them before saying something to the guards and together the three left, leaving Selena and the man alone.

For a long time the two merely stared at each other, unsure of what to say. Finally, the man seemed to come out of his stupor, addressing her in perfect English.

"I am Erik and I have been told your name is Selena Turnour, correct?" Selena only nodded weakly. His tone promptly turned from formal to jovial as he continued. "Please come, sit. I shall prepare you some tea. I also have some sweet biscuits if you are interested."

He was indeed unlike any man she had ever met.

Despite her plan to protest, Selena found herself sitting on a chaise lounge in the parlour. She watched him walk with a cat-like elegance to what she assumed was the kitchen, returning shortly after with a tray of tea and biscuits.

As he poured the tea she wondered why he bothered with formalities. She was entirely at his mercy. He did not need to flatter her with fake civility only to take advantage of her later in the night. Was it his plan to attempt to make her lower her guard through flattery and mock-kindness? _If it is it will not work._

She was also wary of drinking the tea, fearing it might be drugged. Erik must have noticed this because he placed his tea down.

"I did not put anything in it if that is what you fear," she said with a sigh.

"Then why do you not partake?" Selena replied with as much courage as she could gather.

His eyes darkened considerably and for the first-time Selena caught a glimpse of how dangerous the man before her was. "Because to do so causes me discomfort in this mask. I assure you, you do not want to see me without it. Either way, I care not if you drink. I was merely trying to be civil."

"Why bother? I'm sure you will be taking advantage of me soon enough!" Selena cried out.

"No," Erik replied coolly.

"I beg your pardon?" Selena asked, incredulous.

"I said no. I do not make it a habit of mine to force myself upon unwilling women and I shall not flatter myself and believe you are willing. You shall stay with me for your own safety but I shall not go near you if you do not wish it."

Selena eyed him sceptically. "So you allow me to stay? Out of the goodness of your heart? What do you want in return?"

Erik's voice was barely a whisper, "No more innocent deaths on my conscience."

The reply struck Selena to the core. Though she wanted to know what he meant, she also felt like having that knowledge would haunt her. Erik noticed her curiosity, however, and indulged her.

"Do you believe you are the first concubine the Khanum has offered me? The last one cried and I sent her away. A week later the Khanum called upon me. I watched the girl die a slow and agonising death. She was barely fifteen. Still a child." The emotion in his voice was making the eloquent man's speech sloppy, Selena noticed, and it terrified her almost as much as his anger. "The Khanum laughed as she died. I killed that child by not making her stay. I will not make the same mistake with you. So, you shall stay with me."

After the revelation, the room descended into awkward silence again. Erik seemed lost in thought but Selena was desperate to fill the uncomfortable stillness.

"You said your name was Erik," she started hesitantly. "I find myself at a disadvantage. You know my surname but I do not know yours."

"That is because I do not have one. My turn. How old are you?"

Selena was startled that her attempt to question her new host had backfired so quickly. "I am seventeen. I shall be turning eighteen next winter. What about you?"

"I am nineteen I think."

"You think? How can you not know?" Selena asked doubtfully but was only met with a vicious glare.

"Come with me," Erik said, standing.

Selena found herself with little choice but to follow him. He led her through a corridor and into what she assumed was his bedroom. At this realisation, she shot backwards out of the room and glared at him betrayed that he would lie to her and attempt to abuse her trust.

Erik turned at her flight and glared at her. "These will be your rooms for now. I find that I am unused to guests and have not found any reason to furnish a guest room. Tomorrow we shall go to the market to procure the required items for your room. We can also purchase any clothing you may need and any food you may want. Goodnight."

With that he turned to leave but Selena stopped him. "Wait! What about you? Do you not need a place to sleep?"

"I do not sleep much. I will come in the morning to procure some clothes. There is a lock on the door, you may use it if you see fit." He turned to leave but then remembered something. "If the Khanum asks you about me try to burst into tears and claim that I am a violent and horrific lover and beg her to relieve you of your service. That should amuse her for a while."

"Will she relieve me if I ask?"

"Of course not." Erik laughed, a strange sound that was more melodious than his speech, despite its mocking tone. "But if she believes you are suffering you will be of little interest to her. She does so hate happiness in her court."

After he left, Selena began to explore her new surroundings, though first she made sure she locked the door. She briefly wondered if he might not have an extra key to open the door but decided that thinking about that would do her no good. Her life was in Erik's hands, a fact that she had no choice but to accept. Trust, however, was something she would not give. The man wasn't called the Angel of Death for nothing, of that she was sure.

The room could only be described as dark, a stark contrast to the gentle creams she was used to. All furniture was made of dark mahogany and his linens of a deep red. The walls were covered with a black wallpaper, decorated with grey fleur-de-lis. _So he is French_ , Selena assumed, explaining Bahar's interest in her knowledge of the language, though she did not understand why she would need it if Erik was also fluent in English.

Overall, the room blended the Persian and European styles perfectly, becoming an intricately woven chamber of East and West, accentuating all their best features. The room also looked like a catacomb, dark and dreary… waiting for death.

Shuddering, she opened a side door, finding it to be an entrance to a bathroom, furnished with everything one can dream of, including, to her delight, plumbing. Even the bathtub had taps for both warm and cold water!

She was startled by a knock at the door, opening it cautiously to find Erik on the other side holding what appeared to be a bundle of clothing.

"I realised you would have nothing to wear," he said, "You may use this until tomorrow. Then, we will find you something more suitable."

She muttered a muted thank you before closing and locking the door once again.

She found that he had given her one of his white dress shirts, which would easily reach her knees, and a simple red dressing gown for modesty. She changed gingerly, expecting the fearsome man on the other side of the door to come barging in at any moment but he never did. The house was eerily quiet so she assumed he must have left altogether. At least that meant that she would be safe… for now.

He was a strange man, who reminded her of a fallen angel, cast out for some mortal sin.

She knelt before the bed and, for the first time in weeks, was able to pray without fear that doing so may remind the infidels around her that she was not Muslim, potentially leading to horrific tortures to make her convert.

 _Oh Lord, you have seen fit to test me by sending me to this strange land. I know not what your plan is, be it to test my faith in you or some other matter entirely. But remember that I will dedicate myself fully to your service. I need your guidance too. I know nothing of the man that I am now bound to. Is he the Devil, sent to tempt me into sin and hedonism? Is he an Angel, sent to guide me through a land of blasphemers? Help me Lord, for I am lost._

Finishing with an "Our Father", for lack of a rosary bead, she then lifted herself onto Erik's bed, falling asleep quickly with dreams of angels and demons battling in the sky.


	8. The Shah

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited with special shout outs to Tam Lin's Rose and HisRedRose123.**

 **I confess I did some research on earldoms and basically gave up because apparently all earldoms are titles in the Peerage of Ireland and not all of the UK or at least England so once again I have taken some creative license once again. Although this time I basically just took the name and title and made up the history so… I hope this doesn't cause any offence…**

 **Also, this is my longest chapter thus far so enjoy! I cannot promise they will continue to be this long but I shall do my best. As usual, reviews always help ;D**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OC's. Everything else belongs to either ALW, Kay and Leroux.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 7: THE SHAH  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran – Erik's POV**

It was decided. First, he would kill the daroga for not alerting him of the Khanum's plan. Then he would slit the Khanum's throat as she slept, quickly followed by her son's. He would finish his magnificent plan by depositing the girl at her father's doorstep and forget he ever met her, allowing him to return to his normal life.

He knew, of course, that the plan was flawed, foolish and bound to end in disaster but one could always dream. Therefore, he would have to play the generous host to an ignorant noblewoman.

His annoyance only grew as he remembered the daroga's reminder of the fate of his last would-be concubine, as if he needed a reminder. Honestly, the man may have taken the role of his conscience but that did not mean he was a simpleton or completely heartless. He had no intention of allowing another woman to die for the sin of hating him. If he did so, he would find every woman on the planet lining up before the guillotine and that would cause quite the issue for the human population. No, he would shelter the young lady for as long as possible, lest his guilt haunt him even more.

Sighing, he grabbed a large book from a neglected shelf. He had made a point to request volumes on every noble family of the most influential countries in case such knowledge ever proved necessary, which, for the first time, it had.

After much sifting through the piles of titles scattered across the ancient papers, he finally found what he was looking for.

 _Turnour._

Their family title of Earl Winterton was first given to Edward Turnour, 1st Baron of Winterton in 1766. Her father, also named Edward Turnour, born in 1810, was the current Earl and Selena his second daughter amongst five girls and two boys when the book had last been updated. Knowing married couples, they were likely to have at least two more by now, if not out of love then at east out of duty. With the infant mortality rate as high as it was, families, especially noble ones, were unwilling to leave their family name's security to chance. Well… to the will of God as they called it.

Above the family tree sat their motto: 'Esse Quam Videri'. To be, rather than seem. _Curious…_

Any other useful information had long ago faded away, leaving him unable to learn of any unusual or exciting history that existed in the family. From what was visible, however, they seemed to be the pinnacle of nobility. In other words, monstrously dull.

Effectively disappointed and unwilling to compose so as to not awaken Selena, Erik decided to reshuffle several secret tunnels in his palace, the struggle to achieve the best possible placement distracting him for most of the night. The real challenge was to make sure the tunnels could not be discovered by accident, nor footsteps be heard from within. Acoustics, placement, camouflage… not one element could be forgotten if the palace was to be a true masterpiece. One mistake meant complete failure. Experience was a word given to mistakes and experience was something he could not afford.

When he finished, he knew several parts of the palace would have to be partially or wholly destroyed but he was confident that he would not be met with any resistance; such were the advantages of being feared.

In the early hours of the morning, as Erik completed the finishing touches of his newly improved design, he heard shuffling footsteps approaching his apartments. Movements around his wing were not wholly unusual, as the Shah or the Khanum often sent spies to his wing in an attempt to catch him off guard… not that they had ever succeeded but they never approached his wing directly, or loudly.

Concerned he grabbed his Punjab lasso and opened a secret peephole which allowed him to see his new guests. To his shock he saw the Shah himself, accompanied by four guards. _Why would he be here at such an ungodly hour? Can't his business wait until morning? What could be so compelling that he would have to…_

As realisation hit him, Erik whirled around, walking briskly to his bedroom while unbuttoning his shirt. He opened the door and threw his shirt and shoes carelessly on the floor, sliding quickly under the sheets next to his sleeping guest.

Fearing her screams, he covered her mouth as he slid on top of her to straddle her drawing the comforter around them, ignoring his own discomfort and awkwardness. As expected, her eyes opened wide and he felt her mouth attempt open under his palm as she flayed carelessly, attempting to dislodge him as he unbuttoned the top of the dress shirt he had lent her, pointedly refusing to look anywhere below her neck.

He heard the front door open, signalling that his time for calming her was over. Selena, however, had clearly also heard the door and stilled momentarily. Seeing his final chance he leaned down to whisper in her room, "I will not harm you, as I promised, but please stop struggling. Or better yet, struggle. It will look more convincing."

Had Selena had more clarity of mind she may have questioned his meaning but scared, she continued to struggle against Erik's stronger frame. Erik evaded her punches easily as he tried his best to seem as unimposing as possible when straddling an unwilling maiden, which proved to be rather challenging.

Erik was so uncomfortable he was almost relieved as the bedroom door burst open and the Shah entered. Selena raised her head in an attempt to see behind Erik, stilling completely as she saw five other men staring at her, and Erik noted that he had never seen cheeks turn such a bright shade of crimson.

Erik turned to the Shah angrily, speaking to him in Persian. "Am I to be gifted a concubine only to be interrupted shortly after?"

"I apologise. Mother and I merely wished to ensure you were making the most of your gift," the Shah replied smoothly, undeterred by Erik's disrespect.

"Now you see. If you would be so kind as to allow us our privacy I would be ever so grateful," Erik retorted sarcastically, his discomfort growing with every moment he was forced to sit on top of Selena, their naked chests almost touching.

Selena had gone from red to deathly pale, her struggling having changed to shivering as the guards ogled her. Seeing this Erik moved his body to obstruct their view, glowering at the guards as they backed away from his glare. To Erik and Selena's misfortune, however, the movement forced their chests together and Erik felt his cheeks flush underneath his mask.

"My, my, you are a jealous creature," the Shah commented, amused and Erik sighed at the misinterpretation of his actions. "I have seen all that I required. Enjoy your night."

The Shah turned, leaving the room with his guards following obediently behind.

Erik and Selena stayed completely motionless, breathing heavily until the front door shut. The second it did Erik jumped out of the bed quicker than he thought possible, running to his shirt which he promptly put back on, still refusing to look at the girl in the bed as shame consumed him. Instead, he left the room, his shirt still hanging open, leaving Selena still half naked and in shock on his bed.

He ran into the kitchen and busied himself preparing tea, in the hopes that it would provide some distraction for what had transpired.

That was the closest he had ever found himself to a member of the opposite sex and despite the fact that it was one of his greatest desires, he could feel nothing but discomfort and shame. He could imagine the humiliation and fear she had likely felt when she awoke, startled and confused, feelings he had never wished to cause a woman. Worst of all, her pleading eyes brought back memories he had buried long ago, which resurfaced with taunts and sneers. _No woman will ever look upon me with anything but fear._

As memories returned Erik panicked, dropping his tea, the mug shattering and spilling his drink all over the marble floor. He bent down in a daze to pick up the porcelain shards which cut into the skin of his bare hands. He could feel nothing, however, and images continued to fill his mind completely in no particular order. Sometimes he saw faces or words or colours or emotions – a phantasmagoria of every broken dream and every horror he had endured. _I can make anything disappear, anything but my face._

"Erik." A feminine voice shattered his recollections, the stinging pain of his cut hands becoming noticeable. He stood, trying to look as composed as possible while standing in the middle of a porcelain mess, wearing a tea-stained, still open dress shirt as blood poured steadily down his hands.

Selena stood in the kitchen doorway clad in the dressing gown he had lent her, holding it tightly around her as if she feared it would unravel by itself leaving her once again exposed and at his mercy. If Erik had been ashamed before, it wholly consumed him as he saw her standing there, quivering.

"Mademoiselle Turnour, I offer my deepest apologies for any distress I may have caused you. I assure you I had no intention of making any untoward advances on your person," he said, maintaining his voice a completely neutral tone, despite his inner turmoil. It was an art he had been forced to master long ago when he learnt that showing one's emotions often led to a quick death.

"Before I accept an apology I believe I deserve an explanation," Selena retorted stubbornly.

Erik inclined his head at her demand, "That you do. Please allow me to clean up this mess. We may sit in the parlour and talk."

"Wait, no," Selena replied quickly. "You are injured. Allow me to clean up instead."

Erik stared at her, trying to detect any malicious intent, but was unable to find any so allowed her to prepare the tea as he went to the cupboard where he kept his medicines to find some ointment and gauze for his injured hands. Hesitating slightly, he took some extra. He had noticed welts lining the sides of Selena's back, likely due to some beating she had received. The bandages that should have been covering it had been removed, most likely for his pleasure, but such injuries could not be left to fester in the open for too long lest they become infected, which would prove tiresome and time-consuming to treat.

He returned to the parlour to find Selena was already sitting on the chaise lounge, carefully pouring the tea. She stood immediately when she saw him and Erik felt once again ashamed that she now feared him too much to even sit in his presence. He also found it amusing that she took her tea with her and was holding it protectively in front of her, obviously prepared to hurl it at him should the need arise.

Realising she would not lower her guard until she was met with an acceptable explanation Erik sighed and sat on his armchair, picking up his tea at the same time. "I will apologise again for any distress I may have caused though it was necessary. Believe me, had I any other choice I would have chosen it."

"Who was the man and what did he want?" Selena asked, still refusing to sit down.

"The Shah of Persia. He wished to ensure that I was making the most of my gift," Erik replied, gesturing in her general direction, "and I thought it best to indulge him."

"The Shah of Persia? Why would he come personally? Are you truly that important?" Selena was incredulous, and Erik noticed her death-like grip on her tea was softening.

"I am a useful asset and, as I said, you are not the first woman who has been brought to me. As for why he came personally, the Shah is a lewd man who takes pleasure in interrupting intimate moments for his own amusement. The Khanum most likely used this to convince him to come personally, certain that he would not voice any protest." Predicting Selena's next question Erik continued, "Moreover, servants and spies can be easily paid off, the Shah on the other hand, cannot. It ensures that the message relayed back to the Khanum is truthful."

"So the orders came from the Khanum." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I am certain she holds a morbid interest in our relationship," Erik replied smoothly, pleased to find that Selena had become comfortable enough to perch cautiously on the edge of the chaise lounge. Much like gaining the trust of a wild animal, it was the small steps that should be celebrated.

"She is a truly horrid woman," Selena declared, before realisation stuck and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"That she is," Erik agreed, amused at Selena's words. "Though it is unwise to say such things in the presence of those who may impart the information back to her. That, my dear, would not end well for you."

"So you won't tell her?" Selena asked, quietly.

"Certainly not! Any insult towards that hag is music to my ears," Erik replied indignantly. As if he would go through all the trouble of hosting this girl only to abandon her to the Khanum's mercy shortly after.

"Thank you."

Erik only nodded in response, watching her sip her tea timidly. It struck him then how truly child-like she appeared. Abuse had hardened him but the tiny slip of a girl before him had most likely never had never had a harsh hand raised towards her until she came to Persia. All the pain and humiliation she was suffering was foreign to her and Erik did not know whether to feel pity or envy at her naïveté.

"Mademoiselle Turnour," he began, clearing his throat. "You may not believe me but I aim to ensure your wellbeing. Persia is a dangerous place, more dangerous than everything you have encountered. I may be one of the only people who means you no harm. Do not waste such protection. Now, tell me how you came to be here."

Selena nodded meekly in acknowledgement of his words, "I was at our winter home in Normandy. I was taking a carriage home when I heard a commotion outside and the carriage stopped. Then some men entered the carriage and put something in front of my nose and mouth and I passed out. I never found out what happened to the driver though I'm afraid I can guess. When I next awoke I was on a boat."

"Then I shall ensure your safe return home. It will not likely be soon but eventually, I will find a way." He hoped she realised that he rarely made vows.

She merely thanked him again and poured herself more tea. Impudent girl.

Erik cleared his throat once again, preparing himself for the discomfort of what he would say next, "I noticed that your back is injured," Selena blushed, knowing exactly how he had made such a discovery but Erik forced himself to continue, "and if it isn't properly treated and bandaged soon it runs the risk of becoming infected. I very much doubt you would be able to successfully see to it on your own so I politely offer my expertise if you wish it." Selena shifted uncomfortably, clearly torn between her modesty and survival. _That must always be the question for her here,_ Erik thought sadly, _modesty or survival._

After a while, she nodded hesitantly at him but did not move, clearly waiting for his direction and Erik began to regret his offer to help her.

Erik swallowed back a lump in his throat and motioned towards the bedroom, "It is best to do this on a bed."

He stood first, abandoning the tea in the parlour. Despite his hatred of leaving things unattended, sometimes priorities had to be set.

When they were both in the room Erik asked Selena to take off her shirt and lay on the bed face down before turning his back to give her privacy.

At her word he turned again to find her lying on the bed, trembling in fear with her face buried into the plush pillows. Her back was covered in cuts and welts, some of which would definitely leave marks though he doubted any were deep enough to need stitches, to his relief. He was surprised she had so many. The girl was clearly a slow learner… or stupid… both options seemed equally likely.

He sat on the bed and went about preparing the gauze and ointment. He warned her that it could sting before he began cleaning out her wounds. At his first touch he felt her trembling increase and swallowed down his sadness by trying to convince himself that her fear was not personal and that she would have feared any man who touched her in such a vulnerable position. His efforts were not particularly successful.

"What did you do to merit so many beatings?" he asked in an attempt to distract her.

"I kept trying to escape," came her muffled reply through the pillows.

He could not judge her for that. Many of his scars were also marks of failed escapes, though he was shocked at her perseverance. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.

"Did you not think to give up?" he inquired curiously.

"I couldn't give into them. I had to get home. I always hoped the next attempt would be successful. It wasn't until I got lost in the desert for over a week that I realised I had no hope."

"Mademoiselle, I cannot decide whether you are very brave or incredibly stupid," Erik affirmed, though he would not admit that he was impressed.

He finished cleaning her wounds in silence, pleased to find that she had calmed though he had been forced to ask for her help in bandaging the scars since he doubted she would have been pleased to see him wrapping the gauze around her breasts.

After he finished, he left her as she muttered a quiet 'thank you' from the bed.

Emotionally drained, he returned to the parlour to tidy the abandoned tea and poured himself a cup of whiskey, drowning away the memories of the girl who slept in his bed.


	9. The Markets

**Heya guys! I've reached over 1000 views so thank you to everyone thus far! Special shout outs to jhsbradford, PhantomFemme du Pantages and Tam Lin's rose for reviewing!**

 **So Selena and Erik are going to go enjoy the markets. I struggled to decide whose point of view this one should be from since I had great ideas for both but this time Selena won because I felt like you guys should know how she felt after what happened in the last chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Selena. Kay, ALW and Leroux own everything.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8: THE MARKETS  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran – Selena's POV**

Selena awoke early in the morning to a quiet knock at the door. Though she was usually a deep sleeper, she supposed her paranoia and fear had heightened her senses, allowing her to become more alert.

Arranging the covers around her modestly she answered, inviting Erik in. She guessed it was Erik because she could not imagine who else would be in his house. Bahar's lessons made her suspect that he did not house servants.

As expected, Erik opened the door slowly though he did not enter, "Good morning," he began, as cordial as ever, "I hope you had a moderately pleasant sleep at least. We shall leave for the markets in half an hour."

Selena shuffled out of bed after he had left, pleased to find that her back was pleasantly numb. As she put on the same immodest clothing that she had worn the previous day with a grimace, she could not help but think of Erik.

He was a curious man who seemed both so dangerous and so gentle at the same time. He had ensured her safety and treated her wounds, refraining from doing anything too inappropriate. Though she neglected to mention it to Erik for fear of repercussions, she had noticed his discomfort as he laid on the bed with her the previous night, as well as the fact that, despite the opportunity, he had not looked below her head the entire time. He had also protected her modesty from the leering guards. He had been the perfect gentleman. Well… as perfect as one could be when laying over an unwilling partner to save her from the wrath of a sadistic queen mother. When had her life become so very complicated?

Despite everything, she was still unsure of whether she could trust him or not. People couldn't fear him for no reason other than appearance, of that she was certain. That would be foolish and prejudiced.

Questions that she feared to ask riddled her mind. What did he do? Why did they call him the Angel of Death? He did not look like an angel, though he sounded like one. So why? Perhaps she could ask Bahar when she next saw her, should she gain the courage to do so. Part of her wanted to remain oblivious to Erik's dark side. It was easier to believe he was kind and trustworthy.

He was a private man, clearly. Any attempt she made to pry into his past, no matter how innocuous was likely to be met with extreme hostility. Could she trust a man who hid himself so carefully? Was anything he said even truth?

She remembered Father Mansart and his teachings about Satan. He had preached so carefully about temptation and sin. About the fallen angel who lived to destroy.

 _He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. John 8:44. Don't forget children. Even the devil was once an angel. Pray to the Lord and abandon temptation._

Was he the devil?

With plagued thoughts, she abandoned the sanctity of the bedroom to find Erik in the parlour.

Though he acknowledged her entrance they did not speak as he led her towards the bustling city outside the quiet palace walls. It was still early and only servants moved to and fro, too busy with their chores to pay them much notice though the few that did shied away from Erik who in turn merely continued walking, giving no indication that he had seen their reaction.

Selena, for her part, remained demure, guessing that she too should act afraid of the imposing man who glided purposefully before her.

At the palace doors, she was surprised to find a mighty black Arabian stallion already waiting, with only a stable boy watching it warily. It was not tacked, to Selena's confusion, as she did not understand what his purpose was. Even if he was only there to transport their purchased goods, it would surely still require reins. It was clearly Erik's horse as it snorted at his master's approach, his ears shooting up happily. Erik walked up to the horse offering it an apple, which he took gratefully, nuzzling its master affectionately. Erik then turned back to the Selena, gesturing for her to approach the beast.

He allowed her to stroke the horse while informing her that his name was Orion before heaving himself onto its bare back while extending his arm down to help her sit comfortably behind him… or at least as comfortably as one can be when sitting on a horse's spine. She had tried to sit side saddle but Erik scolded her promptly, telling her that no horse of his would be subject to such an uncomfortable riding position.

"Does he not need to be tacked? How will he know where to go?" Selena asked, confused about Erik's confidence.

"He knows," Erik replied simply, leaving Selena with no answers and more questions than before.

The peasants gave her a wide berth as they travelled through the dusty roads towards the markets, the populace either shuffling away or bowing deeply without ever raising their head to look at the couple astride the horse. Not unused to such reverence on the rare occasion her carriage passed through the slums of London, Selena took little notice of their reaction, concentrating instead on the unfamiliar riding position she was in, keenly aware of her proximity to Erik.

The market that they went to, which Erik told her was more commonly called a bazaar, was at once the same and utterly different to the markets of London. Partially covered and partially outdoors it was already bustling despite the early hours. Merchants sold products to eager buyers while others scurried around searching for their desired items. It seemed like everything was available, from food to clothing and Selena soaked up the lively atmosphere gratefully.

Erik helped her down from Orion before descending as well in his usual unnatural grace. He then turned to her, his entire posture serious. "Stay close."

Selena followed Erik through the market as they stopped at different stalls, Orion trailing obediently behind, ordering the furniture that she chose. Selena was surprised that Erik never voiced any protest, accepting her preferences and merely depositing coins into the hands of the eagerly awaiting merchants.

"Erik," Selena began after they had left their third stall, "is it not custom to barter?"

Erik did not turn but replied anyway. "They ask for however much they need. I can afford the original price so why barter?"

Before Selena could reply two young street urchins jumped out of a side alley landing in front of Erik, clearly in a failed attempt to scare him and Selena guessed that the three had met before. The children were very young, the eldest could be no older than nine though poverty made them seem more youthful.

To Selena's surprise, Erik knelt down to their height. With a flourish, two coins appeared in each of his hands and with another, they disappeared. The children gawked and clapped happily as Erik then made the coins appear out of the children's ears before placing the coins into their eagerly awaiting hands. The children scurried off, likely to show their treasure to their families.

Erik then turned to Selena, handing her a large bag of coins, "This is for you. Indulge yourself but do not dare to return any and do not stray too far. Leave the purchases with the merchants. They will deliver them later."

Selena wandered through the market, buying trinkets, tasting delicacies and buying clothes that she deemed were of modest fashion all the while making sure she could still see Erik from the corner of her eye, who walked from stall to stall making his own purchases.

Sufficiently sated and with half her money spent, she tried desperately to find anything else that caught her interest. Finding herself unable to do so she panicked, fearing Erik's reaction should she attempt to return the money. Desperate, she ducked into a side alley, hoping to give the rest of the money to some resting beggars but was surprised to find herself completely alone.

Turning to return to the main street, she found herself face to face with a tall man who grinned at her through rotting teeth. She began walking away from the man only to bump into another figure, this time a shorter, more stout man who leered at her through a boil-covered face.

Selena tried to duck under them but found herself being grabbed by pudgy hands and thrown against a wall. Selena attempted to scream but the sting of a slap silenced her quickly. They pried her hand open, grabbing the money bag from her hand and ran… only to skid to a stop as Erik and Mr Khan appeared at the mouth of the alley.

Erik left Mr Khan to arrest the men as he approached Selena who shrank away from his glare.

"I told you not to stray," he said stonily, his voice frigid.

"I'm sorry." Selena muttered in reply, too scared to look at him as he helped her up, checking the back of her head for injuries.

Erik walked Selena back to Orion, who waited patiently, munching on some apples that Erik had purchased for him.

Mr Khan and the thieves had disappeared, likely already in transit to wherever the apprehended criminals were taken and Selena felt guilty that she was unable to thank him for his assistance.

Their return home was uneventful but quiet with Selena being too scared of Erik's wrath to dare to utter a word. What was worse, the thieves had taken his money and he had not been able to retrieve it.

When they arrived, Erik directed her to an empty room and told her it could be hers before promptly leaving her, stating that he had pressing matters to attend to, leaving her alone to plan her bedroom.

Seeing as she had never had to plan her own chambers she was at a loss, trying to remember what her mother had done to draw inspiration and, finding none, opted instead to clean it and hope for the best. Being inexperienced in cleaning as well – with only Bahar's limited lessons to help her – she took her time sweeping the slightly dusty floor and scrubbing the lavatory with whatever implements she was able to find.

Shortly after she had finished her cleaning and had found herself once again staring at the bare room in a hopeless attempt to style it, she heard a knock at the door. She promptly left her planning to hide behind the door, though she was confident that it would do her no good if he came to search for her.

She was so convinced that it was the Shah that she was shocked to recognise the voice of the kindly Mr Khan, who she had seen only an hour before. Cautiously, she approached the front door to find Mr Khan and Erik speaking. Erik seemed mildly irritated to see the man again though he was placated by the money bag the Persian man placed in his hand. It was the bag that they had stolen from her.

When Mr Khan saw her, he smiled, "Ah, Miss Turnour, I am pleased to find you in good health. The men who robbed you have been dealt with and will not be a threat to anyone again, that I can assure you. Now, would I be able to trouble you for some tea?"

That was how Selena found herself sitting once again in Erik's parlour as Mr Khan, who had asked her to call him Nadir, enraptured her with tales of Persian kings of old as Erik lounged back in his armchair looking positively bored, much to Nadir's amusement. He was surprisingly proficient in English for a man who had never travelled there but he explained that he had met many English-speaking travellers who had been happy to teach him their language.

Her initial impression of Nadir had been correct. He appeared to be a kind and honourable man with a great interest in justice and law, something that she found lacking in the country. Being of noble birth, he was granted the position of chief of police, which he considered his duty above all else. Despite this, there was a glint of something akin to… sadness… in his eyes.

"Erik," Nadir began after finishing a rather interesting story about the current Shah's father, causing Erik to look up from his close inspection of the tabletop, "I am assuming you will be departing to Mazandaran soon?"

"Obviously," Erik snorted. "Not even the Khanum can deter me from my work for too long."

"Would Reza be able to deter you temporarily, perhaps?" Nadir continued, looking suddenly a hundred years older. "I have received word that he has–"

"Worsened." It wasn't a question and Selena was left wondering who Reza was, "Can we leave in three days?"

Nadir only nodded in reply, too overcome by emotion to speak.

"Then that is when we depart. Miss Turnour will accompany us," Erik declared and Selena could not do much else but nod in assent.

Erik's solidarity towards Nadir was a new side of him that Selena had not yet seen and she realised that the two men were good friends, perhaps better than either would dare to admit.

Suddenly, there was another knock at the door, which Nadir opened, allowing a merchant and two large men to enter.

"It appears your rooms have arrived, Miss Turnour. I will leave you to prepare." Nadir nodded his head to both inhabitants of the apartments and left.

Selena directed the trembling men to her room as Erik followed behind. She led the men to where she wanted her furniture placed as Erik watched menacingly from a corner.


	10. Lies

**Hello everyone! Glad to be back! I hope you've all had a great week! Anyway, please, please, please leave me a lil' review, it really keeps me going!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Selena. Everything belongs to Leroux, Kay or ALW.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 9: LIES  
** **Spring 1851, Tehran – Erik's POV**

After the merchants had left, Erik made his way to his rooms, pleased that he once again had the privacy he valued so highly. It was just as he had left it but everything was different. Memories had an uncanny ability to disturb one's peace.

He could still see Selena lying innocently on his bed, her hair splayed on the pillow… _Stop!_ Such thoughts would do him no good. He knew his place in the world and it would never be beside a woman. _Hopes and dreams are for children._

The girl merely tolerated him because he provided security. There was no point in believing that any more would develop.

In an attempt to distract himself, he made his way to his study, carefully selecting ingredients that would prove beneficial to Reza's deteriorating health or, at least, that would provide some comfort to the ailing boy.

His experiments kept him occupied until he was distracted by a knock at the door. As he stalked towards it he decided that anyone who bothered him for the next month would lose their head.

At the door stood a quivering servant who quickly mumbled that the Khanum wished to see him and Selena that morning, before scurrying away. Sighing, Erik returned to his medicine. The Khanum would likely remain asleep until the late hours of the morning so there was no point disturbing Selena.

He busied himself with his craft until midmorning when he heard shuffling in the kitchen, signifying that Selena had risen.

He followed the sound of clanging to the kitchen, finding her on top of a counter, rummaging through the top shelf in search of food.

"Looking for something?" Erik asked, amused as Selena jumped at his voice, banging her head against the shelf.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, still rubbing her sore head, "I was hungry. And it is rude to find such amusement in scaring me."

Erik enjoyed the confident streak that shone through her usually demure nature. Evidently, she had been taught assertiveness was not a trait she was expected to possess as a noblewoman and had done her best to hide it. Her own little mask.

"Schadenfreude," he replied, opening a hidden panel in the wall to reveal a pantry.

"You have a hidden pantry? That seems a bit excessive," Selena commented, though she did not hesitate to help herself to some bread and jam.

"Perhaps," Erik replied, too dignified to admit that he merely did not wish for people to believe that he was human enough to eat. Clearing his throat, he changed the topic. "The Khanum wishes for our presence at around noon."

"Why?" Selena asked, pausing her jam spreading.

"I would guess that she wishes to question us and… well… our… relationship. Do not forget what I told you to do in such a circumstance."

Selena nodded hesitantly, "Erik," she began, "I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Bazaars are dangerous. You should not have moved away from my watch."

"I know," she mumbled, ashamed.

Erik resisted the urge to clear his throat again to fill the awkward silence that fell between them, "Never mind about that. I would advise you to ready yourself. We leave soon."

He left the kitchen and returned to his rooms in search of a more imposing mask, choosing a black leather one that accentuated his unnatural eyes, pleased to find that Selena seemed perturbed when she saw him in it.

Their walk to the harem was quiet, with Selena quite likely being nervous to see the Khanum so soon. He understood her feelings because although he did not fear the Khanum, he did not enjoy being in her presence for any longer than was strictly necessary.

The eunuchs guarding the entrance opened the doors for them without a word and Erik walked ahead while ensuring that Selena followed obediently behind as any good concubine should.

The Khanum lounged, as always, on her divan, seemingly unable to find any other position. It was imposing, he supposed, to appear so relaxed basking in one's power but Erik found it vulgar. To show an enemy everything leaves one open to attack. Erik had already developed over thirty ways to hurt her permanently, not including all the temporary ones–

"My dear magician," the Khanum exclaimed, disturbing him from his slightly homicidal thoughts, "how have you enjoyed your gift?"

"She has been sufficiently… pleasing. I thank you deeply for your most gracious gift." Erik responded through clenched teeth, already regretting not informing the Khanum that he was too preoccupied to indulge her with a visit. It wasn't like she wouldn't believe him.

"I am glad," the Khanum purred. Erik resisted the urge to gag. "Though I was surprised to find you indulging her with so many gifts. She must be truly talented to merit so much."

Erik swallowed back a vicious retort. "She is, though I wish to keep my bedroom my own. Therefore, she will need her own if I tire of her presence. Moreover, is it not common to indulge one's concubine? Or is it merely a Western tradition?"

The Khanum's smile did not disappear though a dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. "You make a fair point." She then directed her attention to Selena, "And you, my dear, what say you of your master's talents?"

While an older woman translated for the Khanum, Erik resisted the urge to flinch at his given title. It was not a word that he ever wanted associated with him… ever.

Selena, to her credit, was quite the little actress. She lurched forward, kneeling before the amused Queen Mother and burst into inconsolable sobs. "Please, most gracious Khanum, allow me to retire from my duties. Though they are an honour, it is ceaseless torture. Please!"

Though Erik knew it was merely an act, it was still painful to be reminded that the pretence would most likely be reality if she had truly shared his bed. _No woman will ever look upon me with anything but fear._

The Queen cackled as Selena finished her begging, entertained, as predicted, by Selena's suffering, "My dear, sweet child, your duties have barely begun. You will continue to serve my favourite magician until such time as he deems you tiresome."

Selena sobbed louder as the message was translated, making the Khanum's grin widen and Erik's shame grow. She should be living peacefully in her home dreaming of handsome knights, not stuck with a deformed genius who had a penchant for murder and theft.

"You are free to go. I assume you shall be returning to Mazandaran soon?" Erik merely nodded in reply, "Well then goodbye, my friend. I wish you many more nights of satisfaction."

Erik grabbed Selena's arm, who was still sobbing on the floor, in an attempt to maintain a semblance of their perceived relationship and all but dragged her out of the harem and back to their apartments.

When they reached the apartments, Selena began wiping the tears from her eyes as her sobs instantly subsided,

"Do you think she believed me?" Selena asked, her voice still shaky.

Erik snorted, "If she hadn't you would be dead."

Selena shuffled nervously and lapsed into silence. There was clearly something she wanted to ask but was too scared to do so.

"If there is something you wish to say then for God's sake just say it," Erik exclaimed, his patience dangerously thin after the conversation with the Khanum.

"There are actually three things that I'd like to say." He gestured for her to continue. "Firstly, I would like to thank you for everything you have done for me. I am truly grateful."

"I am not doing it for you." Erik replied, half regretting his words after seeing the hurt look that shadowed her face.

She forced herself to continue, "Anyway, I would also like to ask you if it would be possible to visit a friend of mine–"

"Friend?" Erik interrupted, incredulous.

"Well, not friend. More of an acquaintance. She helped me when I arrived. Her name is Bahar and she was the translator for the Khanum," Selena continued.

Erik reclined on his armchair, "Ah yes, her. I can try but it will take time. We leave soon for Ashraf and then Mazandaran. Then, we will have to await an occasion where I can allow you to speak away from prying eyes. There are many variables to consider."

Selena merely nodded in acceptance, though her gaze was downcast. "My final question regards where we are going."

"We are going to the Daroga's estate in Ashraf, to visit Reza. We then move on to Mazandaran where I am building a palace for the Shah," he explained.

"Why must I go?" she questioned.

Erik smiled sardonically, "Would you rather remain? You would be expected to stay in the harem with the Khanum, who would likely deem you a failure as a concubine as you could not even convince me to take you." Selena gulped.

"Who's Reza?" she asked suddenly.

Erik froze. "Those are four things."

Selena looked slightly ashamed. "I understand but I would like to know… if you do not mind."

Erik sighed, forcing himself to calm down. Questions were not sins, "Reza is the Daroga's son. He is ill and I have treatments that help."

"I thought you were an architect," Selena cried out in an accusatory manner.

"I dabble in many areas," Erik replied smoothly, crossing his legs elegantly.

"Jack of all trades, master of none, though oftentimes better than master of one," She mumbled in response, thinking that he could not hear her.

"I would say I have mastered most," Erik replied, amused as she looked up in surprise.

"You heard me?"

Erik chuckled. "I have unnaturally good hearing. In fact, all my senses are far more attuned than most people's."

"Well then, what else have you mastered?" she asked.

"Magic, ventriloquism… music." Erik stared longingly at the stack of papers that contained his compositions.

"Music!" Selena's voice roused him from his thoughts. "What can you play?"

Erik snorted. "Anything, my dear. Otherwise I would not have mastered it now would I?"

"Would you…" Selena paused shyly. "would you be willing to play something for me?"

Erik stood so suddenly that Selena flinched away, likely expecting him to lash out in anger but he ignored her, walking purposefully towards his violin and taking it carefully out of its case. He walked back to the startled girl in the parlour and began tuning the instrument.

"Do you have a favourite song?" he asked, not pausing in his tuning.

"No. Why don't you play something that you really like. I think music is always best when the musician plays something from the heart."

Erik paused, considering her words, before placing the violin under his chin and lifting the bow.

As he played the world disappeared. Music called to him like an ancient master swirling and consuming everything before him. He was its humble servant, ready at its beck and call to do its bidding and perform its masterpieces.

Memories surfaced, as the emotions in the song rose. An ancient church organ, a white-stucco house, soft grass, a large tree and bars on windows. Specks of white and brown danced before him and a warm tongue licked the tears from his bare face.

The song reached a crescendo. He heard a piano play and saw snow. So pure, so soft, so red. Blood poured down towards him and sharp stones hit his body. The brown and white specks stood still.

Too soon the song ended. Erik lowered his bow slowly, overcome by emotion. Tears threatened to fall but he pushed them back. It would not do to show emotion in front of the girl.

Selena felt no such reservations. Tears poured freely down her cheeks as she stared at him in wonder. He was not surprised, his music made everyone weep.

After a long silence, in which only their mingled breathing was heard, Selena spoke. "That was beautiful. I've never heard it before."

Erik shuffled shyly, feeling suddenly childish and self-conscious, as his mind was still plagued by emotions, "It is an original, a requiem."

"For whom?"

Erik was forced to blink back tears again, refusing to let Selena see his sadness, his guilt. "Sasha."

"Was she a past lover of yours?"

Erik burst out laughing, deciding to blame it on his uncontrolled emotions, "She was a dog."

Selena's cheeks turned crimson, realising her mistake, "Oh… what happened to her?"

"She died," Erik replied simply, unwilling to relay the story.

Likely sensing his uneasiness, Selena decided to change the subject, "So how will we travel to Ashraf?"

Erik silently thanked her digression. "By horse, of course. We will be riding fifty miles a day at most so it should take us around three days to reach Ashraf. The palace is only being built around half a mile away from Ashraf so that journey will be blessedly short in comparison."

"Well, that is good." Selena hesitated to continue. "I will go rest, if you do not mind. I think that the visit with the Khanum has left me rather weary and I am sure that you have better things to do than entertain me."

Erik nodded in assent, refusing to admit that he wished for her to stay, never having had such friendly conversation with a member of the fairer sex. It was surprisingly pleasant and he was not quite prepared to let her go, certain that such an opportunity would not present itself again for quite a while.

"Well then… I'll go," Selena stuttered before scurrying off back to her rooms.

Erik sighed and went to put his violin gently back in its case but was suddenly startled by a burst of inspiration and he ran to his parchment, desperate to get as much on paper as soon as possible, quickly forgetting his sadness at Selena's departure.


	11. The Desert

**Hey, thanks so much again for the reviews, follows and favourites! Shoutout to Tam Lin's rose, Beagle Brother and my wonderful beta Mominator124. As always, I love reviews and am perfectly fine with constructive criticism :)**

 **Warning: This chapter does contain themes that might be triggering to some individuals, including attempted rape, so proceed with caution. If you want to know what happens in this chapter but do not want to read it PM me and I will give you a summary.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Selena. Everything belongs to Leroux, Kay or ALW.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10: THE DESERT  
** **Spring 1851, Persian Desert – Erik's POV**

Erik awoke early in the morning of their departure and was not surprised to find his charge still in her room, most likely asleep. It was expected as she was a noblewoman who was used to being woken up by a maid late in the morning, but Erik found it irritating to have to host such a pampered child. He was surprised she knew how to dress herself and make tea.

Aristocracy was not high on the list of things Erik liked having in his presence. He found them to be ignorant, narcissistic and utterly clueless about the state of the world. Sitting at the top of the world, being given everything without doing anything, trying to be gods.

Sighing, Erik stalked to her door, knocking loudly enough to wake her. He heard, with grim satisfaction, her gasp as she was startled awake and glared down as she opened the door looking blearily up at him.

"Good morning, Miss Turnour. I am sorry to disturb your sleep but I must insist that you get ready. The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive."

Selena, much to his chagrin, only nodded before closing the door in his face without so much as a world. _The nerve of the girl!_

He stormed to her breakfast, that was already waiting innocently on the table, to check its contents for a final time, knowing that everything was in place but needing something to do so he would not throttle the girl.

Their trunks had already departed so they would not slow down the procession. He had considered taking his violin but was too unwilling to allow any damage to come to it during such rough travels. His music would have to wait.

He turned to glare at Selena as she opened the door, finding himself slightly appeased when he noted she had dressed comfortably for travel and had already prepared a case of items that she would need for the journey.

She looked sheepishly up at him. "I'm sorry about my previous rudeness. I'm rather despondent when I'm tired."

Erik merely made a humming sound in response, gesturing vaguely towards the table in the parlour where a light meal was already waiting for her. "Eat quickly."

As Selena ate as quickly as she deemed appropriate for her noble manners and Erik glared daggers into her back, hoping that it would scare her into eating faster, four cowering servants arrived to collect their cases of necessities. After they had left, Erik was infuriated to find her still nibbling away.

"If you would like to finish sometime this century that would be lovely." Selena jumped at the comment and hastened her eating… slightly. Erik groaned internally and resigned himself to his fate.

After what seemed like an eternity, Selena finished and they departed, heading towards the palace entry where his faithful Orion would be waiting patiently.

Selena fidgeted incessantly by Erik's side, succeeding in irritating him even more. "What is the matter with you today?"

Selena flinched. "I am just not that excited to travel again after my last experience."

"What if you knew that journey would return you to your family. Would you mind so much then?"

Selena made no reply.

Erik was pleased to find that his horse was indeed waiting for him while indulging himself in the most water he would receive before arriving at Ashraf. The daroga and his ever-faithful servant Darius were also waiting with their respective horses, though the servant also held a gelding that Erik knew to be named Dana. He was a beast of gentle disposition so he assumed it would be Selena's mount. He had ordered for the servants to pick her a horse since he was unwilling to allow Orion to carry the burden of a second person for such a tiring journey.

The daroga nodded to them at their arrival and proceeded to introduce Selena to his servant and her horse before Darius turned to help her onto her mount.

Erik turned to greet Orion, offering him an apple which he chewed on happily. "Whatever will I do with that foolish child, my friend? She will be the death of me." Orion merely blinked at him in response and Erik sighed, moving to mount him.

Their journey began pleasantly enough as the sun had not yet risen so high as to glare mercilessly down on them.

Erik removed a small novel from a pocket in his cloak and began to read, hoping that it would ensure that he would not be disturbed.

Selena, he soon learned, was unable to discern some basic social cues.

"What are you reading?" she asked, riding up to him.

Erik glared. "A book."

"Well I can see that. What book?"

Resigning himself to the incessant questions that were bound to come spewing out of her delicate lips, he closed the book.

"Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. I do not presume you have any interest in such novels." He muttered through gritted teeth.

Selena scrunched her nose in disgust. "Oh no. Father banned us from reading it. I heard it is a rather blasphemous book about a man who wished to be God and created a monster."

Erik was disappointed to note that it was exactly what he expected her to say. "I disagree. Creation is not a great a sin as abandonment."

Selena bristled. "One cannot play God and expect no consequences."

What was left of Erik's temper snapped. "Do you not play God when you decide for yourself whose sins will lead to damnation and whose will not?" Selena tried to respond but he did not let her. "Do not try do deny it. How many times have you damned Muslims for their religion since you arrived? How many times have you damned a loose woman?" Selena remained silent. "You cannot deny it, can you? Know this, you naïve child, to give someone life only to abandon them when they are deemed unnatural is the greatest sin, the most damnable sin."

Infuriated, Erik urged Orion into a gentle trot to ride ahead, where he did not have to look at the infuriating girl.

It would seem that he would never find peace because shortly afterward the daroga made his way to him. To his credit, however, he did not speak, knowing that words would not be appreciated in that moment.

"What do you want, Daroga?" he asked eventually, knowing that he would not be left alone until the conversation was over.

"You know she meant no harm," the Persian responded simply.

"It does not mean that she caused none."

The daroga sighed but persisted. "She is ignorant, Erik. You cannot expect her to guess what you have not told her."

Erik was no fool, and clearly understood the daroga's not so subtal message. "Nor will I tell her. As you said, she is ignorant and will remain so until I find a way to get her out of this blasted country without compromising my position at court."

Nadir sighed once again and re-joined Selena and Darius, who seemed to be struggling to understand each other through their language barrier. The three quickly fell into a rather humorous conversation, leaving Erik to sulk alone.

Unwilling to observe them, Erik returned to his book, losing himself within the tale of Frankenstein's tragic creation, of his flight to the home of a kindly old man who took pity on him. His longing for companionship, his resignation to hiding in uninhabitable places where his horrid visage would cause no harm. Yes, indeed, Erik, like the Creature, was doomed to wander the earth, feared, unloved, unnatural. Talent is worthless if one isn't beautiful.

"Erik," the daroga called out, disturbing him from his thoughts. "We will make camp here tonight. Selena needs to rest."

 _Of course she does._ Erik looked around and was pleased to find that the daroga had selected a sparsely vegetated area, with ridges that would provide sufficient shelter for the night.

They prepared to make camp swiftly, aware that night was falling fast. Only after a pleasant fire crackled in the centre of the camp and the horses were tended to did they sit upon their makeshift beds. Selena ate some dried meat and immediately excused herself, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow and Darius followed shortly after.

Erik was left watching the daroga, who stared thoughtfully into the flames, his brow furrowed in worry and grief.

"You are certain," he began, "that there is nothing that can be done."

Erik grimaced. "Would that there were. Your son cannot be saved, Nadir. All you can do is make him comfortable."

The daroga seemed to choke back a sob. "He does not deserve this."

"No, but in my experience, people rarely get what they deserve."

The daroga merely nodded in response and they stared once again into the flames, plagued by their thoughts.

Erik broke the silence. "It is late, you should rest. I will stand guard."

Once again the daroga nodded his assent and went to his bed, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts.

There was no doubt that Reza would die. If he could he would take the boy's place but the world was not so kind. Perhaps someday it would be a more merciful place though Erik very much doubted it.

Erik took out his journal and began to write.

 _Human nature is the source of pain and evil. It has caused the world's greatest tragedies. It is laced in greed, bigotry, lust… there is little compassion in the world._

 _Compassion…_

 _Compassion is underestimated._

 _So often people assume that compassion is weakness and ignorance. Such a simple thing, to be kind yet so difficult to do. All that must be done is to put aside one's differences and accept that all creatures are deserving of respect._

 _Yet good men kill every day._

 _No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted. The wise words of the famed Aesop._

 _I do not pretend to be a good man. Or a merciful one. But I strive to be—_

Erik's writing was interrupted by a shiver of warning that ran up his neck. Someone was watching them.

Erik casually placed his book into his cloak and rose, gently awakening the daroga.

"Come now, wake up, it is your shift. I must rest," he muttered, shaking the older man's shoulders.

The daroga grumbled but catching Erik's eyes stopped and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Wake my servant up," he replied loudly, "I wish for some company."

Erik nodded and awoke Darius who also quickly deduced what was happening.

"Actually, my friend. I wish for some more… feminine company," the daroga exclaimed, "I am certain you do not mind sharing."

Erik felt a faint prick of jealousy but gulped it down, knowing that there was no truth in the daroga's words.

He awakened her with a shake and grabbed her squirming body, half-dragging her to the daroga. Amidst their movements he had time to mutter, "Play along. We are being watched." He then walked to his bed and pretended to sleep.

The men watching them, clearly having decided that it was time to strike, left their hiding places and ran towards them with a mighty roar.

"First mistake," Erik muttered in a thief's ear as he dispatched him, "trying to steal from me."

"Second mistake," Erik continued, slaying another, "being so dreadfully loud."

As he strangled a third man with his Punjab lasso he heard Selena scream. He turned to find her being dragged by a man onto a horse and riding away.

Erik muttered a string of French curses that would have made Mademoiselle Perrault swoon and ran to Orion, who, sensing his master's distress, immediately sped up to a gallop as Erik leapt upon his back and turned him in the direction where the other man had taken Selena.

Being petty thieves, the men were not skilled at covering their tracks and Erik followed them easily enough. The man had not gotten far, evidently too eager to test out his new toy.

He found the man hovering over Selena who screamed and struggled, hopelessly trying to dislodge the larger man who was trying to loosen his robes while holding her down. Blood poured out of her split lip, her face showing clear signs of bruising.

Erik swung his lasso about the man's throat and whispered into his ear, "Third mistake. Hurting her." With that he jerked his lasso taut and heard the satisfying snap of the man's neck breaking and he fell in a heap onto Selena who screamed and dislodged herself from the man, before getting up and stumbling to Erik.

He was surprised to find how pleasing it was to not be feared by a woman, to be trusted enough for her to hold onto him as if he were her salvation. He had little time to think of it however, since Selena seemed to be on the verge of panicking.

Instead he grabbed her shoulders, "You are all right, you are all right. I will check on your face when we get back to camp but we cannot stay here."

She nodded and allowed him to help her onto Orion and they rode back promptly, though it was not as rushed as the previous chase.

At their arrival, Erik found Nadir and Darius disposing of the bodies that littered their camp. Though Nadir had a cut on his brow and Darius was limping they appeared generally unharmed and seemed relieved to find that Erik and Selena were alive.

Erik helped the still trembling girl down from his horse and walked her gently to her makeshift bed, handing her a flask of water which she drank gratefully.

"May I look at your face now?" he asked gently, only approaching at her nod. He gently touched her cheek and for a moment mourned the fact that his hands were gloved, though he quickly dismissed his qualms. It was best that she did not require them touching her face.

Though her cheek was bruised and her lip was split she had no other injuries, and, other than a balm to help heal her lip there was not much that could be done.

Erik moved his hands away from her. It would not do to taint her with his presence for longer than strictly necessary. "You will be fine but you should rest."

Selena shook her head ferociously. "No, I can't."

Erik understood her fears. Dreams could often be far more terrifying than reality so he merely notified her that he would keep watch and left her to her own devices.

"Erik," her voice sounded through the darkness, after both Darius and the daroga had once again fallen asleep, "would you mind if I read Frankenstein?"

Erik looked at her terrified eyes, reflecting the campfire before her and realised that there was nothing he could ever deny the frustrating girl so he handed her his precious book, though not without voicing empty threats of what would happen should she damage it.

He watched her devour the book she had despised so much and found himself wondering how she could have wormed herself into his heart so stealthily.


	12. Ashraf

**Hey all! Thank you once again to everyone who is reading this as a special shout out to Tam Lin's rose. I hope you enjoy the chapter and please leave a review :)**

 **Disclaimer: I only own my OC's. Everything else belongs to either ALW, Leroux or Kay.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 11: ASHRAF  
** **Spring and Summer 1851, Ashraf – Selena's POV**

They arrived in Ashraf as the sun set in the west, bathing Nadir's home in a warm, dying light. Nadir's estate was not overly large but it had a homey feel to it, something that Selena had found lacking in the cold marble of the Shah's palace.

Servants bustled around, pruning the garden and cleaning the house though they all stopped and bowed at their arrival, two stable boys dashing through the small crowd to assist them with their horses.

They all seemed to know Erik, though they seemed far less nervous than the servants in the palace, a curious change in behaviour, though Erik did not seem perturbed at all while he gave the younger stable boy stern orders, most likely regarding the treatment of his precious steed.

As they entered through the large doors Selena found herself struck by how cozy everything looked, despite its size.

She was even more surprised by the boy who came stumbling into the foyer, falling into Erik's awaiting arms in a fit of giggles. _Reza._

The boy was ill. That much was clear. Even as he laughed as Erik spoke to him in Farsi and handed him gifts, he struggled to stay upright. He then proceeded to fumble to the awaiting arms of his father who picked him up and hugged him. Perhaps Erik had underestimated the boy's illness. The child before her seemed to be dying.

A servant came and directed Selena towards her rooms, where she could refresh herself after the long journey. It was a luxurious room, albeit smaller and simpler than what she was used to, with only a bed, a desk and a wardrobe. She supposed guest rooms were usually impersonal. She changed into new clothing that she had bought at the market and washed her face in a cold water basin that the servants had provided and then organised her belongings neatly into the closet. After she deemed herself presentable she left her rooms.

She was surprised to find Erik on the other side of the door, his hand half-raised in a fist. After a few seconds of surprised staring Erik coughed awkwardly, attempting to compose himself. "I just came to ask if everything was to your liking."

"Yes, it's a nice room," Selena replied, slightly amused as his mouth contorted into mild disgust as he peeked inside her room. _So he disagrees._

Moving his eyes from the room back to Selena he addressed her again. "My room is at the end of the hall if you need anything. If you are ready I would like to introduce you to Reza. He's been asking about you."

Selena merely nodded in response and followed Erik to Reza's room. He was playing with a music box in the shape of a monkey dressed on Persian robes. The boy clapped as the monkey clashed the cymbals it held in each hand to the rhythm of the music box's tune. He looked up as Erik and Selena entered and his eyes brightened. He began speaking quickly in Farsi to Selena and she found herself unable to do much other than smile and nod politely. Eventually he stopped speaking and looked at her expectantly. Evidentially, he had asked her a question.

Luckily for Selena, Erik decided at that moment to come to her rescue and kneeled before the sickly boy, speaking to him in calm tones. As he spoke, Reza began to look increasingly abashed and looked down shamefully.

Erik smiled and drew the boy to his chest. "Reza wants to apologise. He didn't know that you don't speak Farsi. He was merely commenting on how happy he is that you're here and that you are very pretty. He also asked whether you are enjoying Ashraf."

Selena smiled and touched Reza's shoulders, urging him to look at her. "It's perfectly alright, I completely understand. I think Ashraf is beautiful and I must thank you for being such an attentive host."

Reza's eyes brightened and an excited smile returned to his face as Erik translated Selena's reply. He very quickly resumed his rapid talking to which Erik happily indulged him. It was such an intimate moment that Selena felt as if she were intruding and she found herself slinking back into the shadows as best she could.

"Reza has asked whether you would like to play a game of chess with us," Erik translated, "he says he wishes to be on your team."

"Team?" Selena questioned, baffled.

Erik laughed as he stood to retrieve a chess board from a cupboard. "Well, we cannot play a three-way chess game so we will have to make do with teams. Reza has been practicing and claims that he is now better than I am."

Reza was certainly not as good as Erik though he won every game. Selena could see the mischievous look in Erik's eye every time he 'accidentally' placed his queen in a compromising spot or failed to notice a particularly good move. Reza's happiness seemed to be his only true goal and Erik proudly declared Reza a chess grandmaster as they finished their last game.

Since Reza was getting tired, Erik suggested he could perform a magic show. Mr Khan joined them then and together the three watched Erik perform a series of complex magic tricks and illusions. Selena and Mr Khan clapped and gasped along with Reza, who seemed so fascinated that his fatigue had almost deserted him. Almost.

The performance ended as Reza fell asleep on his father's lap, exhausted from the day's activities.

As Nadir tucked his son into bed, Erik escorted Selena back to her room, declaring that he would retrieve her the next morning for breakfast.

Despite the peacefulness of Ashraf, sleep didn't come easily to Selena that night. She tossed and turned in the bed but no position was comfortable enough and, after several unsuccessful hours, she decided to get up and take a walk to clear her head.

She padded silently down the hallway, and headed towards the kitchen, hoping to find some snacks to distract her from her raging thoughts.

So much had happened to her in the last few weeks. A kidnapping, a cruel queen, a mysterious masked man, an honourable policeman. It seemed like something she would read in a novel, not her life. It had all been so simple before, with her greatest worries being the coming season and her father's pressure to find a suitor.

Erik was another mystery. He was an eternal contradiction. He was both predictable and volatile, kind and cruel, gentle and brutish. How could a man be so many things at once? Could he be trusted? Why was he–

Her thoughts were interrupted as she entered the kitchen. Several candles burnt brightly on the table on which a hunched Erik seemed to be tinkering with a toy of sorts. Though he had his back to her she could see him lift the soldier automaton which walked a few steps before spasming and collapsing upon the table, upon which Erik would release a grunt of frustration. After several failed attempts Erik let out a muffled scream and flung the soldier angrily at the wall, where it let out a decisive clank and fell to the ground.

What shocked her was to see Erik collapse back onto the chair and cradle his masked head in his hands as his shoulder racked with silent sobs.

"Erik," she murmured, causing Erik to spin around while furiously blinking the tears from his eyes, "you're crying."

Erik dug hid fingers into the eye sockets of his mask, wiped his eyes and sniffed. "I am not, it was just some dust. It makes my eyes terribly irritated."

Selena looked at him pityingly. "It's Reza. He's dying, isn't he?"

"Yes," Erik croaked, "he's just a boy, just a little boy. He's barely ten."

"It's alright to mourn, Erik," Selena said, reaching out to him. "It isn't a weakness. I'm certain that God will allow him a merciful death."

Erik flinched away from her extended hand, his eyes becoming suddenly expressionless. "There is no mercy with his ailment, none at all. Unless… I know what I must do."

With that he walked past Selena and strode down the corridor muttering. "There are many things I will need and not much time. Research, first I must do some research. I know I have seen the perfect one somewhere…"

Selena looked after him in puzzlement before shrugging and turning to the pantry to continue her original quest. Erik was a strange man. It was useless to try to understand him and if it were possible for him to find a way to help Reza, she would not begrudge him his eccentricities.

Their stay in Ashraf lasted almost two months, and was mostly filled with magic and illusions that Erik performed to entertain Reza.

Peacefulness penetrated everybody in Ashraf, oftentimes making it easy to forget the horrors that lay just three days from where they were staying. Reza's laughter was contagious and his sickly pallor forgotten immediately when his signature smile graced his youthful features.

When Reza slept, however, a deep melancholy permeated every member of the household. One warm evening, after Selena had successfully convinced Reza that he had to rest after spending three hours trying to master the simple magic tricks Erik had taught him, she found Mr Khan and Erik speaking in parlour. They spoke in hushed tones, though Mr Khan kept repeating the same word over and over. She knew that word. _No._

She guessed that Erik had given Mr Khan some unsavoury news regarding Reza. Her suspicions were confirmed when Mr Khan broke into tears, falling heavily onto a chair. Erik watched uncomfortably before his eyes turned to look directly at her, hiding behind the door. He brought a finger up to his lips, urging her to remain silent, before subtly gesturing for her to leave, a wordless promise to explain everything in his eyes.

Later that night Erik knocked on her door. He did not enter, his sense of propriety still intact despite their unconventional relationship. He informed her that Reza had taken a toll for the worse, and though this had not gone unnoticed by Selena, she had not discerned the full extent. Erik told her that soon all his muscles would cease to function, including those that allow him to swallow, leaving him to die a slow and agonising death. He had six months to live at best, though Erik suspected that he was vastly overestimating the number.

He left Selena to mourn the boy. She did not sleep that night, far too horrified by the revelations she had received.

For the next few days, every time she went to look for Reza, she found him playing with his father, who attentively provided for everything he needed. Unwilling to interrupt what would likely be a father's last days with his only child.

Then the messenger came. The man informed Mr Khan that he was needed back in Tehran. Something about a murderer who had been apprehended in his absence. Meanwhile, Erik was ordered to go to Mazandaran, as the Shah feared that he was becoming lax in his duties as an architect.

Reza cried when he was told that everyone had to leave. He clung to all, for even Darius had grown close to the boy, sobbing into their shoulders as the farewells were made. Selena, Erik and Mr Khan were all forced to leave the weeping child with the faithful servants, promising to return soon. Erik also promised to bring back a new automaton doll to complement the toy soldier that he had eventually successfully completed.

The four only rode together for a few minutes before Mr Khan turned his horse south, making his way back to the city with Darius. It was dangerous to travel alone, and the ever-faithful Darius had decided to accompany Mr Khan for fear that he might be attacked once again by thieves.

Selena and Erik's journey was uneventful, only taking half a day to complete. They travelled in silence, Erik once again burying his nose in a book. Selena still had the copy of Frankenstein that Erik had lent her, though she was not as comfortable reading while on a horse as Erik was, preferring to enjoy the scenery, sparse as it was. Her turbulent journey to Tehran had not given her the opportunity to enjoy the beauty of deserts and she was surprised to find a certain serenity in the never-ending expanses of sand that stretched out before her, especially when she was so used to the cold dreariness of London.

She let her thoughts wander to what would happen once they arrived at Mazandaran and allowed her horse's stride on the hot sand lull her into a land of daydreams.


	13. Mazandaran

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 **Disclaimer: I only own my OC's. Everything else belongs to either Leroux, Kay or ALW.**

 **CHAPTER 12: MAZANDARAN  
** **Summer 1851, Mazandaran – Erik's POV**

As Mazandaran rose in the distance, Erik resisted the urge to groan. Despite not being able to see the details it already looked wrong. The builders were decent enough but could not properly understand the complexities of his blueprints, leading to rather unfortunate events in which he lost his temper.

He arrived at Mazandaran and immediately swung off Orion, stomping towards the tent where the stone masons would undoubtedly be congregated. He vaguely heard Selena struggle off her horse and follow him but his mind was far too preoccupied with more important matters.

He snapped the tent flaps open and was unsurprised to find the architects discussing his old blueprints, trying in vain to decipher the complex equations. They instantly stopped talking as he stalked in and eyed him warily, knowing that they had unquestionably failed in their duties. Their eyes strayed immediately however, as Selena entered gracefully, pausing at Erik's right shoulder. Not having seen women in months, the men eyed her hungrily, causing Erik to stand in front of her, glaring at the lusty men who averted their gaze in fear.

"The palace is a disgrace," Erik addressed the men, "Several areas will have to be torn down and rebuilt–"

"But, sire," one of the men bravely interrupted Erik, "we are already vastly over the budget–"

"We would not be if you were not so very moronic!" Erik roared. "Moreover, I have updated the blueprints and simplified them to your level of intelligence so this time you might not make as many mistakes."

The men all nodded, promising to successfully create his perfect palace.

Erik sighed and led Selena out of the tent and into another much larger one that was positioned at the edge of the campsite, atop a dune that allowed for the best possible view.

Erik addressed Selena as they entered the luscious tent. "This is mine. You will have to stay here with me." Sensing her protests he quickly continued. "These men haven't seen their wives in months and I would not trust the restraint of common men. Prostitutes come sometimes but most are far too nomadic to stay for long. If you wish for your own tent I will provide you with one but, though they fear mine too much to enter, I cannot promise they will be so frightened of your own."

Selena looked at him for several seconds before nodding her head in agreement.

Erik let out a breath. "Excellent! I will arrange for an extra bed to be brought to us for your comfort. Now, there will be several rules while you stay here and please try to obey them lest you end up in a very compromising situation. You will not leave this tent without me or someone else I permit. If you do leave, you will stay by my side at all times. Finally, if any man says or does anything inappropriate you tell me at my earliest convenience. Understood?" Selena nodded her assent. "Good. Now, I must go find a new architect. These have proved highly unsatisfactory." He made his way to the tent entrance before stopping and turning back to Selena. "Stay."

The Shah's spies had proven to be unreliable. It was perhaps time to find someone to keep an eye on the palace during his absence himself.

He made his way to the building site, stopping by a woodworker to request a bed on the way. Arriving at the site, he pulled a young stone mason aside. Erik had been watching the man since he began working and found his determination to be encouraging.

"Amir, correct?" he asked gruffly.

Amir shuddered in fear. "Yes, sire."

"Good. I have a proposition for you. Would you be interested in a promotion?"

The man's eyes brightened. Having just married, he was struggling to scrape by to provide for his wife, who he had learned was with child. "Excellent. I expect you at my tent in the morning."

The man nodded and bowed before carrying on dutifully with his work. Yes, he would do much better.

Erik then turned back to the tent where the soon-to-be former architects would still undoubtedly be attempting to understand his work.

They were so concentrated on his blueprints that they failed to notice him entering once again.

"You are dismissed," Erik stated simply.

The men all looked up at him in alarm and confusion.

"Pardon?" One brave man spoke up.

"You are dismissed," Erik repeated calmly.

"But sire, the Shah–"

"You proved unable to do your job time and time again. I tire of the constant delays. The Shah will not condemn my desire to have men I can depend upon to do their job. You are dismissed. Get out of my sight."

The men scurried away, likely to pack their belongings, leaving Erik alone in the tent. Night was falling. The palace could wait until the next day. With a final longing look at his blueprints, Erik left the tent and returned to his own.

He was pleased to find the new bed already in the tent when he arrived, upon which Selena lounged lazily, staring blankly ahead of her.

She smiled slightly at him as he entered. "A young man came to deliver the bed. He was very polite. I think his name is Amir? I am not sure."

Erik nodded. "Ah, yes. He is a bright young man with a promising career in architecture should he choose to pursue it." He shuffled uncomfortably. "I hope you do not mind... being in the same room as me to sleep."

"We have found ourselves in far more compromising positions," Selena chuckled, though her cheeks flushed bright red. Erik was glad to be wearing a mask, lest she see the heat that had suddenly flushed his own. Instead, he gulped and nodded.

"I have a busy day tomorrow," he stuttered out, "I will retire early if you do not mind."

He ignored Selena's head shake and moved behind a screen to change into more suitable garments before hiding himself under the covers though he did not sleep, too acutely aware of the girl in the bed just a few feet away from him.

The next morning, as expected, Amir came to Erik's tent.

"Good morning," Erik began as he greeted the young man. "Come with us."

Amir and Selena followed Erik as he led them through the maze of tents. He had allowed Selena to accompany him, simply so she would not complain of boredom, but was beginning to regret his decision as he noticed the leers she was receiving from the builders.

Amir's eyes seemed to be the only ones that did not roam, which surprised Erik. The builders were not known for fidelity to their women, the daroga being the only man he knew that remained faithful to his wife, even after her death. Amir was certainly devoted to his own little wife.

He led them to the tent where the architects had convened and then turned to look at Amir. "I am in need of a new architect to assist me while I am gone. Would you be interested in the position?"

Amir gaped like a fish for a few seconds before regaining his composure. "I am humbled sire, but I am not an experienced architect, and I am young. Surely there are more capable men."

Erik sighed. "I had experienced architects working for me, who were older and more experienced. However, age and knowledge made them lazy. I want someone who I can depend upon, not someone who knows everything."

Amir squared his shoulders. "Well then, I will do my best, sire."

"Excellent," Erik stated, clapping his hands together. "Come with me, I will show you what must be done."

Leaving Selena to entertain herself, Erik directed Amir to a chair and spend the next few hours instructing him on architecture, until he was certain the man understood everything. Amir listened dutifully, asking questions in determination to succeed.

After the instructions Amir immediately set off to instruct the workers of the change of plans and for the rest of the day the air was filled with the sounds of demolishing walls and shouting men. In the centre of the chaos stood Amir giving orders and in that moment Erik believed he had made the right choice.

A few weeks passed in similar fashion. Amir had indeed proven to be a reliable worker and building was proceeding more smoothly than ever. His tempered ego allowed him the courage to ask questions when confused so no errors were made and expenses diminished considerably.

The Shah had sent complaints at the dismissal of his former architects, uncomfortable to have no spies in Mazandaran but Erik was certain he would soon find another way to keep an eye on developments, and the success of the construction kept him agreeable to Erik's changes.

Selena was Erik's main concern. He had very little spare time in which he could entertain her and he could tell she was becoming increasingly bored. He had sought to teach her some Farsi but her skill for languages was depressingly limited and it would not be of much use to her either way. The men, wary of Erik's wrath, avoided her as if she were the plague, though, much to Erik's annoyance, their eyes still roamed. Only Amir stood comfortably in her presence, though the language barrier and Amir's schedule did not allow for long periods of communication.

She had, thus far, obeyed his rules, fearful of the workers but Erik worried that boredom would lead her to do something foolish.

His fears were not irrational.

Erik returned to his tent after a long day overseeing construction with Amir only to find it eerily empty. Tired and frustrated he called out to Selena, thinking she was playing some kind of game but, receiving no response, he understood the situation he found himself in. She was gone.

Fearing that she had been whisked away by a licentious worker he began a frantic search through the campsite but she was not in any of the tents. None of the workers would have been courageous enough to ignore his vicious threats.

Wandering aimlessly, he found himself at the half-finished palace. It was unnervingly dark and deserted, the workers having all retired for the night. Only the moon and the distant campfires of the campsite cast gloomy shadows upon the walls.

He was about to turn back when a shadow moved on an unfinished roof.

Erik climbed the scaffolding, thinking it to be a thief or spy but was utterly surprised to find Selena leaning carefully over the edge of the precipice to look at the campsite below.

Time slowed. Erik's mind returned to a fateful evening years prior, under the full moon of Rome. A girl falling off an unfinished railing, her hair flowing about her face, her hand just an inch too far from reach.

Erik let out a startled yell, lunging to Selena, who, frightened, lost her balance and began falling backwards.

His heart clenched at the sense of déjà vu that flooded through him though this time he managed to grab Selena's hand, pulling her far from the edge.

"What were you thinking?" he roared, shaking her trembling shoulders. "I told you to stay in the tent! That was all you had to do and you decide to ignore my warnings and wander to an unfinished building. What if something collapsed? You almost fell for God's sake!"

"I only lost my balance because you startled me," Selena shouted back. "I was bored. You all have something to do. I, on the other hand, have nothing. I was tired of sitting day in and day out on a bed reading the same books over and over and over–"

Erik recoiled. "I am trying to protect you, you foolish child!"

"Stop calling me that," Selena cried. "You always call me that. I am not a child. I am barely a year younger than you. I was careful. I waited until all the workers were gone. No one saw me. I am going mad, Erik. Mad!"

Erik's fury rose. "You spoilt girl! The world is far more dangerous than you could ever understand–"

"I can understand, Erik." Selena's cheeks were flushed in anger. "You are not the only one who has suffered."

Erik let go of Selena, turning his back to her to regain his composure. _How does she not understand?_

"You were scared," Selena muttered behind him in realisation.

Erik found some of his carefully built walls crumbling at her gentle tone. "I was terrified," he admitted, turning to face her. "I came back to find you gone. I thought that one of the men had taken you and… and I hadn't been there to protect you."

Selena lowered her head in shame. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you. I just wanted to do something different."

Honesty and candidness didn't come naturally to Erik and it terrified him but it was one of the rare moments in life were it could not be avoided. "To be completely frank, Selena, I consider you to be a friend. Friendship to me is not a given, I am terrified of losing it… of losing you. But… but I understand if you do not consider us to be friends. I have been inexcusably brutish. I–"

"Erik," Selena interrupted Erik's rant with a small smile. "I consider you a friend as well, albeit an unconventional one. I'm very sorry that I frightened you." Selena extended her hand to him. "Friends?"

Erik hesitated slightly before clasping her small hand in his gloved one and courageously bringing her hand to his lips. "Friends."

Selena smiled so brightly that Erik felt that his pounding heart would beat right out of his chest. He had never had anyone who considered him a friend.

"Is it safe up here?" Selena questioned suddenly.

"Quite," Erik replied softly, "so long as you stay away from the edge."

Selena laughed. Erik's heart melted.

"The stars are beautiful. I never noticed. I spent most of my time in London and neither the weather nor the fog allow for stargazing," Selena confessed.

Erik smiled gently at the beautiful girl who stood next to him, unafraid and was suddenly aware that her hand was still clasping his.

Erik shuffled slightly though he did not release her hand. "Would you like me to show you some constellations?"

Selena's eyes brightened. "Yes, please."

He lowered her to the ground and they laid down side by side, their hands, though no longer clasped together, still touched lightly. Erik pointed out constellations and regaled ancient stories of their origins while Selena smiled, her eyes shining brightly as she looked at the full moon.

"Selena," he began abruptly, "may I ask you a question?"

Selena frowned slightly. "Of course."

"Your siblings all have such common names but yours is unique."

Selena laughed. "I have been asked that question many times. My paternal great-grandparents were rather eccentric apparently and gave all their children unusual names. My grandmother's name was Selena. She passed away three days before I was born. I was named in her honour."

"I see," Erik muttered, "It is a beautiful name. It means moon goddess in Greek. It suits you."

"Thank you," she replied shyly. "Erik is not a French name either."

"No," Erik murmured mournfully, "it is actually Norse. It means ruler or honourable king. I am neither."

Selena frowned. "I wouldn't say that."

"It is true. I was meant to be named Charles after my father but my mother considered it to be a tainting of his memory so I was named after the priest who baptised me."

Selena said nothing and Erik was glad. He did not want her pity. He did not want anyone's pity. Slowly, she took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Your mother was a fool."

They did not speak after that. There was no need for words. They stared at the stars until Erik felt Selena's breathing shallow and he carried her back to the tent.

Anyone looking at the scene would've been reminded of the kidnapping of Persephone.


	14. Ayesha

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 **Disclaimer: Only my OC's belong to me, everything else is either Kay's, Leroux's or ALW's.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 13: AYESHA  
** **Autumn 1851, Mazandaran and Persian Desert – Selena's POV**

Selena was both relieved and scared when the messenger came, announcing the Shah's wish for Erik's return to Tehran. Despite the boredom that a construction site offered, it was still safer than being in the same palace as the Khanum.

After the night on the rooftop, Selena and Erik's relationship had become somewhat less awkward. Their status as friends allowed for greater freedom in their conversations and Selena began to see a gentler side to him. The same side that was exposed when Reza ran into his arms.

After the revelation of his mother's refusal to bless her son with her husband's name, Selena's curiosity regarding Erik's past grew exponentially. Despite their closeness however, Erik remained stubbornly unwilling to share any of his past, notwithstanding Selena's subtle nudges. She eventually gave up, not wanting to anger him, but the inquisitiveness remained.

Erik leisurely prepared for departure, claiming that there were many orders to be given before they could leave, but Selena knew better. Amir was a competent architect and had already received all the orders, Erik was merely delaying their imminent departure.

"How long do you think we can wait before the Shah becomes suspicious?" Selena asked him as they slowly packed their trunks, the tent becoming uncomfortably barren. Though she did not love sleeping in a tent, Erik managed to make it look much like their own apartments in Tehran – an oddly pleasant mix of Persian, French and Russian décor which gave it a distinctly Erik-like feel to it. With all its personalisation stripped away, the tent simply appeared wrong.

Erik let out a hopeless sigh. "Not much longer. We will have to depart in two days at the latest."

Over the course of their time in Mazandaran, Selena learnt that Erik hated vulnerability and intimacy and tended to shuffle like a child when he was about to engage in either one. So when Erik began his shuffling she had to stifle the smile that would undoubtedly make him feel humiliated.

"Selena," he stammered, "I was wondering if you would allow me to give you something before we leave."

Selena smiled gently. "Of course."

Erik handed her a small package with slightly trembling hands. Selena slowly peeled the wrapping away to reveal a sleek black box. An elegant necklace with a pendent shaped like a crescent moon sat proudly upon velvet pillows.

Erik fidgeted nervously. "It's a moonstone. I thought it would suit your namesake so I decided to carve it. After that night, I wanted to get you a gift to thank you for being my friend."

Selena gently fingered the pendent, suddenly overcome by emotion. "I don't know what to say."

Erik lowered his head. "You don't like it, do you. It's alright. I'll find something else–"

"No Erik, no," Selena interrupted, "it's beautiful. I simply don't know how to thank you."

"Oh…" was all the ever-eloquent Erik could say.

"I am sorry I didn't get you anything," Selena muttered regretfully.

"No!" Erik exclaimed immediately before making his voice more gentle. "No. Your friendship is the only gift I could ever ask for."

"Thank you," Selena murmured. "Did you truly carve it yourself?"

Erik looked at Selena indignantly. "I wouldn't lie."

"You are incredibly talented. Is there anything you cannot do?" She then gestured to the necklace. "Would you mind?"

"Of course," Erik replied, picking up the dainty necklace and moving to stand behind Selena while wrapping the necklace around her delicate neck. He fumbled with the clasp for a few seconds before sighing. "I cannot put it on with gloves on. Would you mind if I took them off?"

Selena was startled to realise that she had never seen his hands, as they were always hidden beneath his dark leather gloves. Much like the rest of his body, they were long, pale and scarred, with blue veins tracing bold patterns across the skin. They reminded her of twin spiders, both elegant and dangerous.

He wrapped the necklace once again around her neck and she let out a startled gasp as his hands touched her bare skin, lingering only slightly too long. _They are freezing!_

"I'm sorry," Erik apologised as he finished clasping the necklace. "My hands are always cold. It's caused by poor circulation. It's an issue I've always had. It looks beautiful on you by the way."

"Thank you," Selena blushed. "It's alright, they just startled me. Are you always cold?"

Erik laughed though it died quickly, when Selena impulsively clasped his hands in her smaller ones, rubbing them together in an attempt to warm them.

"When they're always cold it becomes the norm," he explained. "When my hands do warm up, even if they are still cooler than average, I tend to find that they become rather uncomfortably hot."

Selena stopped warming his hands. "Oh, sorry." She looked down at their clasped hands, suddenly realising the impropriety of her movements and swiftly released him.

Erik coughed. "Shall we continue to pack?"

"Yes," Selena agreed, moving back to her trunk. "That would be for the best."

They continued to stow away their belongings in silence, though Selena found herself periodically touching the pendent that hung gracefully from her neck, just to make sure it was still there.

They left, as planned, two days later. The messenger had been sent ahead with their trunks to notify the Shah of Erik's impending return.

Selena shuddered upon her horse, Dana, as they began their long trek back, still mildly traumatised from their previous experience though Erik assured her that he would be far more vigilant.

The first day of the trip was uneventful. They travelled swiftly, pausing intermittently for food and water. With the tension lifted between the two conversation was easy, though they spoke only of trivial matters and, for once, Erik did not spend the entire time reading.

Selena wore the necklace around her neck, hidden under the folds of her tunic. She was always reluctant to take it off, feeling like doing so was somehow disrespectful to Erik's efforts.

Erik, for his part, also seemed pleased that she wore it so dutifully. She frequently caught him glancing at her neck, a small smile gracing his lips when he saw the pendent dangling prettily.

Their second day proved to be far more eventful.

They awoke early in the morning, determined to travel as much as possible before the hottest time of the day. If they covered enough ground they would be able to stop and rest during that time, allowing the horses to have some much deserved rest. They packed the horses quickly departed, careful to leave no evidence of their campsite. Erik claimed he liked the hidden nook they had found and should thieves find evidence that it was used by travellers it would become too dangerous to return.

They were riding at a gentle trot through sparsely vegetated terrain when the stench of rotting meat filled their nostrils. Looking around Selena caught the sight of a furry corpse several meters ahead.

She urged Dana into a canter, only vaguely hearing Erik's ungentlemanly curse as he commanded his own horse to follow.

When Selena saw the large, decaying tiger surrounded by the bodies of her lifeless cubs she gasped, tears dampening her eyes.

"What do you think happened?" she asked as she heard Erik approach behind her.

Erik slid off his mount and walked towards the beast. His hand hovered over its torso though he did not touch it. "Starvation or dehydration most likely. It has been an unusually dry season and most of the prey has either left or moved on. The mother was either going to teach them to hunt or trying to follow prey. Either way it doesn't matter. They haven't been dead long, probably two days at most. It is a shame; such beautiful creatures."

Erik sighed and rose turning back to Selena, who had also dismounted.

"There is nothing we can do," he mourned. "Come, we must be on our way."

He returned to Orion, who seemed to eye the dead tiger distastefully, and began to ride away. Selena gave the deceased animals one last glance before turning back to Dana but a small glint of orange from a nearby shrub caught her eye.

She stalked gingerly towards the bush and peeled the leaves aside. Behind it was a small cub which, had it not been for the weak rising and falling of its chest, would have appeared as dead as its siblings.

"Erik," she called out, turning to find that he was already returning, most likely having noticed that she wasn't following.

She ran back to Dana, removing her canteen of water and some dried meat from a saddlebag before returning to the unconscious cub.

Erik was already kneeling next to it, stoking its flank gently. He did not speak as she approached but merely extended his hand to the canteen, which Selena handed to him swiftly. He poured some water down its throat, massaging its muscles so it would swallow.

"Can we keep it?" Selena asked abruptly.

Erik nodded his head in assent. "Of course we shall take her with us. I will find someone who has experience in the rehabilitation of tigers when we return to Tehran."

"No," Selena corrected, shaking her head. "Can _we_ keep her and raise her."

Erik looked at her incredulously. "She's a tiger. Tiger's grow and then they eat you."

"What if we raise her not to?" Selena protested.

"She is a wild animal. You cannot raise her any other way," Erik explained.

Selena sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Well then, can we at least take care of her until she is ready to be released?"

Erik hesitated, looking at the cub for a few more seconds before nodding in agreement.

Selena clapped her hands together in glee but Erik's voice interrupted her. "Selena, I cannot promise she will survive. She needs to awaken soon so we can feed her. If she does not…" he didn't have to continue.

Erik picked the cub gently and brought it to rest against his chest, almost like a child. Selena was about to protest, wanting to hold the cub herself but soon realised that such an idea would be foolish, since she needed to hold the horse's reins.

They rode more slowly after that, so as to not jostle the cub too much.

"Erik," she called after several hours of comfortable silence. "what should we name her?"

Erik looked down at the cup for a long time, stroking her head absentmindedly before declaring, "Ayesha."

"Ayesha," Selena parroted. It was a sweet name.

As they made camp the next night, Ayesha startled awake and, had she not been so weak, she would have undoubtedly bolted away. Instead she walked a few steps and let out a pathetic mewl before promptly collapsing.

She growled feebly at Erik as he approached but the moment he extended his hand, which was clenched in a fist, she fell silent, eyeing him distrustfully. She slowly dragged her tiny body towards him and he opened his palm, showing the cub a strip of meat.

Erik gestured for Selena to approach and handed her another strip of meat. "If you feel her she will be more amiable."

Selena fed the cub who ate slowly, savouring every bite. They then gave her water, which she drank with such fervour that she choked on it, leading to a few minutes of desperate coughs.

When Ayesha finally had her fill she sat on her haunches, eyeing her two new companions thoughtfully before walking to Erik, curling up on his lap then promptly falling asleep as he stroked her fur thoughtfully.

"What's your secret?" Selena questioned, her eyes glittering in the firelight.

Erik looked up at her in confusion. "Secret?"

"With animals," Selena clarified. "They all seem to love you."

"There isn't a secret," Erik explained, looking down thoughtfully at Ayesha. "Animals are not so different from mankind. They value understanding and respect. I simply view them as my equals – another living creature struggling to survive in a world without mercy."

"But humans and animals are not equal. Animals have no soul," Selena countered.

Erik's eyes grew suddenly ice cold and the hand that stroked Ayesha's fur stilled. "I think it is best that you rest, Mademoiselle. We arrive at Tehran in the morning and I am certain the Shah will have many questions."

He stood, carefully carrying the sleeping cub and bundled her in his blankets before returning to the fire, pointedly refusing to look at Selena.

Confused, Selena rose and made her way to her own bed. She did not understand what went wrong, everything was so light between them before. Selena knew that Erik was a sensitive soul and prone to a quiet anger that frightened her. Religion seemed to be a sensitive topic for him and she reminded herself that perhaps it would be best at times to remain silent on matters of religion.

She watched Erik for a while as she lay under her blankets, unable to fall asleep. He stared vacantly at the fire, a sad and haunted look in his eyes.


	15. Executions

**Hey, thank you to everyone! Special shoutout to Tami Lin's rose. Please, please, please leave a review :)**

 **Things are going to get pretty dark and angsty so enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to ALW, Leroux or Kay.**

 **CHAPTER 14: EXECUTIONS  
** **Autumn 1851, Tehran – Erik's POV**

The daroga was waiting for them when they arrived.

"The Shah wishes to see you immediately," he addressed Erik before whispering quietly in his ear, "I will make sure Selena is safe."

Erik turned to look at Selena, who was cradling a sleepy Ayesha who only looked up at her surroundings for a second before promptly going back to her nap. The cub had quickly become trusting of her two saviours and clung to them relentlessly. Selena had about it joked several times, stating that it reminded her of the behaviour of her spoilt baby brother, who, being the youngest child, had no responsibilities and was given everything he wanted.

The daroga joined Selena, most likely to explain their circumstances and question their new acquisition and Erik left, comforted with the knowledge that Selena was in safe hands.

He strode through the many corridors that lead to the throne room, ignoring the marble statues and gold foiled walls that made the palace renowned throughout Persia. He was far too preoccupied with thoughts.

Though he tried to ignore it, he could not stop thinking of the feel of Selena's soft neck under his fingertips and he cursed himself for being so weak. Forgetting the night he had hovered over her half-naked body was easy enough, the circumstances destroying any inappropriate thoughts that threatened to plague him. But the day he gave her the necklace was not tainted by the Khanum's cunning. It was pure, intimate… No, it would not do to dwell on such things.

The Shah's throne room was no different from when he had last seen it. Shining jewels still adorned his tasteless throne, though Erik took silent pleasure in the knowledge that some of the jewels were fake, having swapped them with glass on the day of his arrival.

The Shah slouched upon the throne, large belly protruding obscenely. Though not an ugly man, with silky black hair and a well-kept beard, the Shah was not a fantastic beauty either, his throne rendering him lazy as well as incompetent. He was completely disinterested in whatever a low-ranking official was announcing but perked up as he saw Erik enter. He brushed the official aside who awkwardly stopped speaking mid-sentence, bowed and quickly departed.

"My dear magician," he addressed Erik, pointedly ignoring the fact that Erik didn't bow. "I hear that you took your whore with you." Erik resisted the urge to slap the Shah for his insult. "She must truly be talented to keep your interest for so long. Perhaps you will allow me a taste sometime. I grow bored of Persian courtesans."

Erik swallowed down his homicidal urges, deciding to leave the plans of torture for after. Hopefully someday he would be able to enact them.

"Perhaps," he replied in a clipped tone.

The Shah laughed. "Still as possessive as ever, I see. Tell me, has she seen your face? Does she scream in fear or pleasure when you take her?"

Erik did not dignify him with a response merely looking pointedly at the man-child who smirked. _If only I would wipe the grin of his smug little–_

"I see you are not interested in casual conversation," the Shah interrupted his thoughts. "Down to business then." Erik nodded in agreement.

"The palace construction is going more smoothly than ever before," Erik declared. "My new architect has proven to be most reliable–"

"That is my first question," the Shah interjected. "Why dismiss my architects?"

"With all due respect, they were useless and arrogant. They were unwilling to follow my commands and caused far more issues than they solved." Erik gritted his teeth, frustrated by the Shah's interruptions.

"I see," the Shah muttered. "I would like to contact this new architect, so that I may get to know him."

Erik resisted the urge to role his eyes, knowing of the Shah's desire to enlist Amir to spy on him while he was in Mazandaran. It was of no concern to him either way. Erik knew how to keep his secrets. "Of course, whatever you wish."

The Shah smiled. It was a cruel smile, much like his mother's, though hers was constantly plastered across her face. "Now, onto the reason I summoned you back. It appears that my brother-in-law, Mirza Taqui Khan, has been plotting against me. I would like him disposed of."

Erik nodded his head. "Of course. I shall depart for his estate at once."

"No," the Shah countered. "He and my sister have been invited here and are scheduled to arrive tomorrow. When they show up he will immediately be arrested. I wish for you to devise an execution, just for the court. I would like it to be slow and painful. And bloody! I wish to see lots and lots of blood!" Erik shuddered. The Khanum's roots were embedded deeply within her young son.

Erik paled under his mask. "For the princess as well?"

"No, no" the Shah chuckled. "My sister is innocent of treason and I have other plans for her. I wish for her to watch though."

"Very well. Will that be all?" The Shah nodded his head and Erik began to depart. "I will see to the preparations."

"Oh and bring your little whore. I would love to see her again," the Shah called out as Erik all but sprinted out of the throne room.

Mirza Taqui Khan was innocent of any crime though Erik knew that he had insulted the Shah's mother on his last visit to Tehran. The execution was to be a warning to the court. He could clearly see the puppeteer behind the horrid play; the Khanum was seeking revenge. The Shah was either too stupid or too blind to see through his mother's manipulations.

He walked swiftly back to his apartments, desperate for the sweet oblivion of opium.

When he slammed the open door of his apartments however, he was met with the alarmed face of Selena and the resigned look on the daroga's face and cursed his forgetfulness. Of course Selena would be there. Understanding that the daroga was already aware of Mirza Taqui Khan's fate, he resigned himself to the services of an opium den, unwilling to allow Selena too see him in such a condition.

"Erik?" she questioned as he turned to depart, grasping his gloved hand. "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Erik found himself unable and unwilling to reply. He shook her off and left, heading straight to the opium den he most frequently patronised. Though still catering to a higher class of cliental, it was not visited by members of the court who preferred to use their own private stashes. Therefore, he would not have to encounter any familiar faces.

When he arrived he was immediately lead to his usual private room. It was a small, dark room of elegant maroon, filled with plush cushions and enough opium to last him a week. He was known at the den though he did not go there often. He still preferred the privacy of his own apartments but when the daroga was being insufferable he found it easier to hide himself within the little room, knowing of the Persian's hatred of opium dens.

The thick scent quickly lulled him into a more peaceful frame of mind, which he welcomed with opened arms. He forgot his childhood, he forgot the Khanum's chuckle, the Shah's execution, the daroga's disapproval. For a while he even forgot his palace and his music.

Only one thing refused to be lost in the fog. _Selena._ Her smiles and laughter. The pressure of her hand grasping his. The satin skin of her neck. He could feel it, hear it, sense it. It enveloped him.

He saw her lying next to him as they stared up the stars. He saw her sleeping soundly, firelight illuminating her face. He saw her smile as she looked at the moonstone necklace that dangled above her heart.

She wasn't afraid of him. She was his friend.

For once he welcomed memories. For once he felt like he knew what happiness was. He had a friend.

He let his thoughts drift as he continued to inhale the mind-numbing drug.

He awoke hours later, still groggy from the effects of the opium. Taking out his pocket watch from he saw that it was early morning, the sun having not yet risen.

Leaving a pouch of coins in the hands of a startled servant, he made his way back to his apartments,

He walked slowly, the opium in his system still in control of his senses. The dark allowed him to hide easily in shadows and he managed to return to his apartments unnoticed. It was silent, Selena most likely still fast asleep.

As he walked down the corridor to his room he was surprised to hear the pitter patter of Ayesha's tiny paws following him loyally, her fur still slightly damp from a bath she had obviously been given earlier. She jumped upon his bed and buried her head between her paws, her crystalline eyes boring into Erik's soul.

"What do you see when you look at me, little one?" Erik asked her while preparing himself for bed. Ayesha merely yawned in response. She waited patiently until Erik was under his blankets before making her way to him and curling up against his shoulder.

Erik smiled and removed his mask, blowing out the only candle that lit his bedroom.

He woke to the sound of Selena calling Ayesha, who, also having been awakened dashed out of his room and into the corridor. From the happy chuckle he heard Selena let out he guessed Ayesha had found her.

He was irritated to find that the effects of the drug had all but dissipated, leaving him only with a tremendous headache. He groaned and rose, making his way slowly to his lavatory and preparing himself a bath.

The warm water helped relax him though it did little to ease his headache. Sighing, he rose and dressed himself, donning his most imposing black mask.

He reached the parlour only to find Selena and Ayesha waiting for him. She eyed him dubiously. "How much did you drink last night?"

Erik looked at her for a few seconds, wondering whether he should tell the truth but thought better of it. "Far too much, my dear."

Selena blushed at his choice of words but persisted. "Was the audience with the Shah truly that bad? Here, I prepared some tea."

He thanked her and took the tea. He was pleased to find Ayesha so happily gnawing on chucks of meat Selena had cut for her that she completely ignored her surroundings. It appeared that his fears for her life were unfounded. The tiny cub was determined to survive.

He had barely finished his tea when there was a sharp rap at the door. Knowing it was the daroga by his distinctive knock, he allowed Selena to open the door. The daroga merely nodded to Erik. _It is time._

"Selena, please accompany Nadir. I will join you shortly," Erik said, cringing at his lie.

Selena nodded and kissed Ayesha's little head before accompanying the Persian out of the apartment.

Erik returned to his bedroom and took out the one drug he only used in times of execution. Heroin had to be injected and proved to be far more troublesome than opium but its effects were stronger and he _needed_ to forget.

Erik then took out his daggers and his Punjab lasso and tucked them into the pockets of his cloak, hastily leaving the apartments with a quick pat to Ayesha's head.

He arrived at his usual spot, a small room with a one way window that allowed him to gaze directly at the open-aired execution chamber, looking much like an colosseum of glass, where Mizra Taqui Khan was already standing, appearing slightly dazed. The dark-haired man held a small dagger in his hand and was waving it in all directions as if expecting Erik to pounce on him from any direction.

Above the chamber sat the court. The Khanum sat on a large chair, her usual smirk plastered on her face, which her son was trying desperately to mimic while sitting on his own grand throne. Tears were already falling from the princess's eyes, one of her hands clasped over her heart. The rest of the court eyed their sovereigns and Mizra Taqui Khan nervously, understanding the message that was being delivered. They all knew of Mizra's insult.

Selena stood next to the daroga, looking around the court, most likely in search of him. She was truly beautiful, with her dark hair and sparkling eyes. He mourned the fact that it would most likely be the last time she would ever smile at him. He decided not to look at her again, knowing it would lead to second thoughts; something he could not afford if he wished to get her out of Persia safely.

With the effects of the drug clouding his vision, he opened the secret door, entering the execution chamber. Mizra Taqui Khan spun around to face him, holding his dagger before him defensively.

Erik chuckled and felt a shudder run through the whole court.

He did not remember much of what happened after that, abandoning himself to the effects of the drug. As the haze descended he smiled. He would remember nothing by the next day. It was one less nightmare that would haunt him as he slept. One less tear to shed.

He allowed his victim to attack him for a while, merely dodging the vizier's onslaught, the dagger whistling past his ears. He could hear himself gloating, enraging the man, but was unsure of exactly what he said. It was something he had done many times. He did not need to think as it was ingrained into his memory.

When he saw the Khanum tiring of the torment from the corner of his eye, Erik disarmed him. Mizra Taqui Khan took several steps back, looking around franticly before falling to his knees. He cried and begged but Erik could not hear his words. He only saw a body that would soon be a corpse.

Slowly and methodically he broke each of the man's fingers, ignoring his agonised screams. Through the haze he could also hear the princess's desperate cries but pushed them aside. It was not the time to regret.

Erik eventually turned the man's own dagger against him, cutting him here and there without thought, his blood soaking Erik's clothing. With every cut and every scream he could hear the Khanum laugh louder. The Shah chuckle more crudely. The court fall more silent. After what felt like hours he tired of the torture and, with one swift blow, slit the Mizra Taqui Khan's throat, watching him gurgle for a few seconds before collapsing in a heap. Dead.

The only sound that could be heard were the princess's screams.


	16. Demons

**Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I can tell you that I definitely enjoyed writing it.**

 **I sincerely apologise for updating this late but unfortunately by laptop decided to go meet its maker in silicone heaven and I now have to manage without it. I should hopefully get it sorted by the end of the week but if I fail there may be some delays in the updates. I will try my best though so bear with me please :)**

 **There are several quotes in this that come directly from Kay and anyone who guesses them correctly will receive an award. Also, shoutout once again to Tam Lin's rose!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own my OC's. everything else belongs to Kay, Leroux or ALW.**

 **CHAPTER 15: DEMONS**

 **Autumn 1851, Tehran – Selena's POV**

Erik turned to his audience, dropping the vizier's bloody corpse on the ground before the Khanum, who laughed delightedly and clapped. Erik mock-bowed to his audience, his eyes never leaving the Khanum, as if having a silent conversation only they understood.

The vizier's now ex-wife continued screaming and crying but the sounds were drowned out as the rest of the court clapped politely, too scared of the consequences should they show their horror and the obvious threat before them.

Selena saw Nadir from the corner of her eye, also clapping slowly, displaying no emotion though she suspected he was almost as disturbed by the scene as she was. As Erik's conscience, any sin he committed weighed heavily on the ageing man's shoulders. Every time Erik fell more deeply into sin and corruption, Nadir's soul aged a thousand years.

Erik then straightened himself, turning to look directly as Selena. His eyes were glassy as if he was in a different world, as if he was merely going through the motions but not truly there, though there was a certain turbulence behind them. She could see in his eyes some emotion he was trying desperately to conceal from everyone at court and likely also from himself. Was that guilt?

She was reminded suddenly of something Nadir had told her during their stay at his home in Ashraf. _Erik is corrupted by vice and yet maintains a child's essential innocence. It's strange but whenever I look at him I find myself remembering that even Lucifer himself was an angel before he fell._ So was he the Devil? Perhaps a demon?

In her fear she forgot their friendship, she forgot his kindness, she forgot his smile, she forgot his laugh. She saw only the demented creature before her.

Erik strode purposefully towards her, and she shrank back, hoping in vain that the ground would swallow her up, allowing her respite from the wretched country she was in. Instead, he grabbed her easily by her upper arm and she felt her clothes becoming soaked with the blood that was still fresh on his hands.

Selena whimpered, the Khanum laughed and the room was silent.

Erik stood watching her for a second before pulling her along with him, leading her away from the terrified courtesans and the villainous Khanum, who continued to laugh in amusement as the body of the deceased vizier was carried from the room, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

Selena hurried along without a sound, too scared to look at the imposing man walking silently next to her. She had known that he was a magician, an architect and an assassin but until now his final profession hadn't truly sunk in. She had rejected it, pushed it to the back of her mind because it was simpler to accept that a man who would overpay merchants to ensure their continued survival, who would go out of his way to feed poor children in street corners while showing them magic tricks could at the same time… _murder._ But he could. She had seen it with her own eyes and she could no longer deny the one truth she had attempted to avoid.

 _He is the Angel of Death._

He was not an angel nor a saint but a demon, sent to tempt her into sin and debauchery, which explained the sometimes questionable moral standards that seeped through his impeccable demeanour. Perhaps this was her test. To deny the Devil's temptations just as The Saviour had done in the desert for forty days. A test she was not willing to fail.

She was aware the devil was watching her from behind his black mask and Selena wondered what horrors were hidden beneath. Was he some gruesome creature, twisted and deformed from the bowels of Tartarus? Or an Eros, so beautiful that to look upon his face was a sin punishable by falling from Eden into the mortal lands of Earth, doomed to remain as such until numerous tests were passed?

Persia was a white sepulchre. Inside, it was bound to be filled with demons awaiting their consecrated victims with smiles and false promises. It would make sense that a demon would choose to reside in Tehran, where sin and vice were rife.

His apartments lost their beauty to her, becoming a decorative mask, much like the one on his face.

Despite her desire to turn and flee from the demon into the sanctity of her bedroom she knew she could not. _One cannot defeat a demon by running, only by fighting._

"You are a monster!" she said, the comment sounding pathetic and childish to her ears. It had the desired effect, however, because Erik flinched.

"You had not realised?" he replied, though his voice lacked its usual strength and confidence. He sounded instead resigned and tired. _I am not the first to deem him as such._

"I trusted you! You were my friend! I thought you were good! But you are a murderer… a sinner!" she screamed out, feeling betrayed.

Erik laughed, a malicious sound similar to the one he had uttered as the man he killed begged for life. "Trusted me? You naïve fool! You wretched cretin! Trust the Angel of Death? Allow me to give you some advice – never trust anyone. No one does anything without considering themselves first, not even charity exists without some selfish motive. Tell me, do you believe people do good purely because it is good or out of some fear that they will be condemned to Hell? Why do _you_ do good?"

Selena balked, her mouth hanging open as she attempted to come up with a response. Erik smirked and turned away from her, likely believing the conversation was over.

"So you turn away from God's teachings?" she asked demanded, surprising herself with how steady her voice was despite her emotional state.

"Turn away from Him?" Erik demanded, suddenly angry, "I did not turn away from God. God turned away from me! God is not kind and merciful as your fleeting fantasies and sheltered upbringing would have you believe. God is cruel. God is capricious. God, if he has not abandoned this world as a child discards a broke toy, is a monster... he is a monster," Erik paused, "just like me."

"How… how could you say such a thing? You always say such blasphemous things! Are you not a Christian? Do you not fear for your soul?" Selena asked shocked, never having heard someone openly denying God.

"I was baptised Catholic. In point of fact, I was a perfectly devoted and dutiful little Catholic – until the day I learned that animals have no souls." Erik's eyes dimmed and Selena saw in them a great loss, though she dared not question it.

"I know what you are." Selena said, suddenly confident. "You are a demon, sent to tempt me. Sent to corrupt my soul, damning it for eternity in the deepest recesses of hell." She ripped the moonstone pendent from her neck and threw it at him. "You will not succeed!"

"I am not a demon. I am a mere mortal, a mistake on this Earth created by a volatile master. I am Adam, doomed to live forever in an Eden without an Eve. I was once shackled by a parish priest into loving a loveless God but those chains were broken by knowledge. I am alone, I am godless but I am still a man. Nothing more."

"Then why do you wear a mask? Why hide behind it?" Selena demanded, curiosity infiltrating her.

Erik went very still. Selena thought she had gone too far. Then he turned to her, the smile of a lunatic plastered on his face. When he spoke his voice was an echo, like the remnants of an ancient memory upon his lips.

"Come! Come! Come! Come see the Living Corpse! Come feast your eyes on the Devil's Child! A voice of an Angel with the face of a Demon! Come, come, come!" With that he ripped off his mask and Selena heard herself scream.

His face was grotesque, there was no other word for it. It was parchment yellow and just as papery, its thin dryness giving the impression that it might peel off at any moment, leaving only sinew and bone. His eyes were burning with fierceness, a stark contrast with the rest of his decaying features. The most horrifying part of his face, however, was the gaping hole where his nose should have been. She finally understood why they called him the Living Corpse. Were his chest not rising and falling in angry pants and his eyes blazing, she would have thought him a long forgotten carcass.

Erik waited for her screams to abate and shock enveloped her mind, leaving her paralysed and numb.

"Do you understand now, girl? This is the gift I received from your 'benevolent' God. A face to fuel fear and hate; a face no mother could ever love. Tell me, Miss Turnour, what reason would there be for a God to curse a child for sins it has yet to commit? To doom one to a life of hatred and abuse? Labelled a monster by appearance and not by deed." His voice became quiet. "Why does no one ever understand that on the inside I'm just like everybody else? I laugh and cry, rejoice and lament, love and hate. I am just like everybody else. I am, I am, I am."

Selena looked at the man before her, because she now saw he was clearly a man. No demon could have eyes so haunted, so full of anguish and broken dreams. Pleas fell from his malformed lips, begging for clemency, a final hope of redemption. He continued to whimper and beg on his knees, his head bowed though she had ceased to hear him. She regretted her words but found herself unable to apologise.

The truth is rarely pure and never simple.

Selena realised then that truth is a frightening thing. The truth not always beautiful and lies are not always ugly. Sometimes truth was cruel, sometimes lies were soothing. She often lied to herself, pretending she donated to a hospital purely out of goodness but Erik's words had made her question that. Was this was temptation was? Slowly driving her mad by making her question her own virtues?

She remembered one of the many stories she had overheard Erik telling Reza during those sleepy nights at Ashraf and which Nadir had kindly translated for her.

 _Truth floated from country to country, city to city, town to town handing out answers to all who sought it._

 _One day she went to deliver the truth to a child in the form of a mirror. The child looked into in and saw a monster and broke the looking-glass in his fright._

 _Suddenly, Truth saw Lie arrive. Now you see, Lie was truth's greatest enemy so she became very angry to see him appear when she was about to finish her job._

 _The boy took one look at Truth, however, and turned away, embracing the soothing Lie that comforted him with the knowledge that the mirror merely housed a monster that could not hurt him now that the mirror was broken. He was trapped in a different world now that its only door was destroyed._

 _Truth then confronted Lie, asking why people loved him more than her._

 _Lie merely smiled and replied, "No one wants truth. It may make one accountable for something that one has tried to ignore. Or destroy beautiful illusions that one has created. I am the reflection of the truths humans cannot accept. I allow children to believe that monsters are hidden in mirrors. Lies are comfortable, truth is not."_

Ignorance is bliss.

To remain in the dark can be terrifying but at least there one can remain free from pity. She understood the story now. The lie was gone and the bitter truth had risen to the surface. The story Erik had told wasn't a story, it was truth… his truth.

With disgust and pity in her heart Selena ran, ran into the safety of her room, away from the worried man who continued whimpering outside, unaware of her flight, and at that moment she knew for certain she had failed God's plan.


	17. End of Innocence

**Hello guys! I am once again so so sorry for updating late and thank you for being so patient. Hopefully I'll be able to get a new one soon.**

 **Anyway, quick shoutout to Tam Lin's rose and jhsbradford! Please leave a review. They really keep me going.**

 **Trigger warning: This chapter has mentions of rape and violence so please don't read it if it's a trigger. Feel free to PM me and I'll give you a chapter summary.**

 **Disclaimer: Everything expecpt for my OC's belong to Leroux, ALW or Kay.**

 **CHAPTER 16: END OF INNOCENCE**

 **Autumn 1851, Tehran – Selena's POV**

Selena was startled awake by an anguished cry, a sound so animalistic that for a second she thought something was wrong with Ayesha. Turning, she saw the small cub eyeing her through beady eyes from her place in the bed, obviously also awakened by the strange sound.

Then she heard it again, a pained moan that slowly increased in intensity, developing into a desperate scream. The difference this time was that it was followed my words, screams of ' _no!'_ and ' _please don't!'_ amongst other unintelligible sounds.

The voice could only be Erik's and the realisation shocked her. His voice had only ever been melodic, even when angry, never losing its perfect tone. What she heard now was pure cacophony, like a bow violently slashing all the strings of a violin in one fluid motion.

Frightened, Selena could only sit in bed for several minutes listening to the horrid sounds coming from outside her door until concern overtook her anger and fear and she dragged herself off her bed, grabbed her robe, and cautiously opened the bedroom door leaving Ayesha lying comfortably over the covers.

Seeing nothing outside, she cautiously made her way through the corridor and toward the sound, finding herself at last in Erik's bedroom only to discover him convulsing in his sleep, his body contorting into odd positions as he desperately clawed the air as if it would lend him some support in whatever was haunting him. His mask was on the carpeted floor, likely having fallen off in his thrashing and she picked it up, placing it on the bedside table, knowing she would be unable to put it back on unless he stopped moving. His cries continued, now clearer and she could hear distinctive begging, mainly ' _forgive me!'_ , ' _please wake up, Sasha'_ and ' _please don't hurt her'_ repeated in an endless loop in between sobs, screams and moans.

Not sure of what to do but unable to allow his torment to continue, Selena jumped onto the large bed and called out his name several times, rising in volume each time, trying desperately to look at anything except his face. Proving completely unsuccessful in her attempt, she tried poking and shaking him gently but he was too far gone to feel her. Desperate, Selena grabbed both his flailing arms. Surprisingly he stilled momentarily and Selena relaxed, only to be flung out of the bed as Erik startled awake, with vicious scream akin to a demon rising from hell, his garish face only adding to the horrendous effect.

Selena stumbled to her feet only to find him staring straight at her. His eyes were completely different from anything she had ever seen, burning bright and vicious and she realised it wasn't her she was seeing but some horror of his past.

He stood and glared, causing Selena to stumble back in horror, only to find herself pressed against the wall.

"Hello Javert." His voice was truly demon-like, causing Selena's trembling to renew in vigour, "Have you come back to haunt me?"

"Erik, it's me." Selena's voice trembled so much, she doubted he could even understand her, "It's—"

"Want another taste of the Living Corpse?" Erik laughed maniacally, his voice turning into that of a merchant attempting to sell his goods, his face contorted in a manner that made him look like a cadaver, repeating the words she had heard only a few hours previously "Come! Come see the Living Corpse! Come feast your eyes on the Devil's Child! A voice of an Angel with the face of a Demon! Come, come, come!" He laughed again, and then changed suddenly, his voice becoming small and childlike, "Come enjoy his flesh tearing from his bones! Come enjoy his begging cries! Come watch a child die! Come watch him become a man! Do you not want to see? Does no one want to watch the final humiliation? The beginning of the end? No one… no one?" Tears were pouring down his hollow cheeks, his body hunched forward, so unlike the confident man she was used to seeing. She was tempted to hug him, tell him he was safe.

He suddenly changed again, becoming enraged and again Selena pressed herself desperately against the wall, her sympathy forgotten. "Did you not have your fill Javert? Do you want more? You'll never have more! You'll never have me again! Never! Never! Never!" He flew towards her in one fluid motion, placing his hands around her throat and squeezing.

Selena's eyes bulged and her mouth opened as she desperately struggled for air. She looked around desperately for a weapon but there was nothing. Her hands then flew to his, tried to pry them apart but her strength was no match for his.

As her vision began to fade she looked into his anguished eyes and found them looking back at her. A cloud seemed to disappear as recognition dawned on him and he released her, stumbling away.

Selena fell to the ground choking and gulping, relief flooding every cell in her body. After several minutes attempting to compose herself she looked up raised her eyes to find Erik curled up in the opposite corner of the room with his head on his knees and his arms holding his legs up his arms wrapped around his legs. He looked so small and child-like that, had it not been for what had just happened, Selena would have thought him the safest creature in the world.

She was tempted to leave, lock herself in her room with Ayesha and forget the night had never happened but she couldn't; not when she felt like this was part of God's plan.

So she stood. As she approached him slowly, much like she did when she first approached Ayesha, she uttered out his name, so as not to startle him. He looked up slowly as she kneeled before him and, once again, she saw not a demon staring at her but simply a man. A very broken, very damaged man. It was not that his face was any less gruesome or any more handsome, but the deep pleading in his eyes, the mercy they asked for, that she had seen in so many desperate souls at Church.

"Erik is sorry," he muttered simply though shame permeated his macabre features.

Selena nodded, not an acceptance of the apology but an acknowledgement. Erik moaned remorsefully in response and returned to his former position, his head between his knees. Silently, she was disturbed by his sudden change to referring to himself in third-person but decided it was likely not the best time to question it.

"Erik," she began instead, "what happened?"

He looked up again sheepishly, "Erik had a night terror. He is very sorry if it disturbed you. And he is very sorry for hurting you." He stood up suddenly, causing Selena to stumble back in fright. In response he merely looked at her sadly, silently assuring her he meant no harm. "Sorry… it appears all Erik can do is scare his guest… his friend. Erik is a terrible host, is he not? And a horrible friend. He merely wishes to prepare you some soothing tea and a balm to help with your throat as it will likely hurt and be bruised in the morning."

With that he glided out of the room returning shortly after with his procured objects. Before approaching her again, however, he ran to bedside table, plucking up the discarded mask and placing it on quickly before turning to her. Selena felt a twinge of pity for his obvious discomfort at finding himself without it, though, to her shame, she also found herself relieved to be looking once again at the familiar blankness of a mask.

"May I apply this?" he asked, holding up the balm, reverting back to first-person. "I promise not to harm you."

Selena hesitated but nodded her head slowly and he approached her cautiously, much as she had approached him, which amused her. _An assassin is afraid of my reaction to him?_

"I always have been," he responded and she realised she'd voiced her thoughts out loud, the strain of her vocal cords a painful reminder of her mistake. Selena blushed, covering her mouth with her hands.

Erik smiled slightly, dipping his hand into the creamy substance and then bringing it to her throat.

Selena tensed but managed to remain immobile as he gently applied the substance to her bruising throat. She found herself wondering how hands that could cause such death could also be so very gentle.

He then passed her the tea and she drank it carefully. It burnt her throat as she swallowed but after the initial sensation its warmth became soothing, her throat feeling far less constricted.

"What were you dreaming about?" Selena asked, surprised by how damaged her voice sounded.

Erik sighed but responded regardless, "I suppose after all the trouble you have gone through, you deserve to know. I was not dreaming, I was remembering."

"Remembering what?"

"Everything, I would guess. I do not remember most of my night terrors." Erik replied. "Now, off to bed. You must relax your throat if you wish for it to heal efficiently. And I am certain Ayesha is curious of her carer's whereabouts."

Selena allowed Erik to help her up and to her bedroom, her legs still protesting the oxygen depletion they had received.

As they walked a sudden question came into Selena's mind, causing her to turn to Erik in urgency.

"Who is Javert?" she demanded.

"How do you know that name?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"You thought I was him. That is why you attacked me. You said something about him never having you again… Erik?"

Erik had retreated into himself, becoming once again very small. He shook his head and led her to the parlour instead, laying her in the chaise lounge and covering her with a blanket before seating himself in his usual armchair, that, for the first time, seemed to swallow him in its grand stature.

He poured himself some whisky, and offered her some though she refused. For a while he simply drank and she allowed him to, feeling that he needed to take the edge off his troubled mind. After several glasses she thought he would be completely inebriated but he seemed surprisingly lucid. Then, when Selena was almost dozing off he began his tale though she suspected his plan when he was sober was merely to wait for her to fall asleep and forget his silent promise of a story.

"Javert was a gypsy." His voice went very quiet but mesmerising, like that of a story-teller, "He found me as a child and kidnapped me to use me as one of his attractions. For years I was his slave, locked in a cage. He'd lure people in, make me perform magic tricks, sing and then at the end he'd rip off my mask. Everyone would scream and cry and swoon and laugh. They'd throw things… rocks, fruit, anything they had. Then, they'd pay Javert extra, pleased with the horror they'd seen. When I refused he'd flog me until my back had no skin left and I collapsed from blood loss and shock." Selena opened her mouth to speak but he raised her hand to stop her. "Let me finish or I may not be able to. One day he… he let me out of the cage… said he wanted to take me for a walk. I think I must have been around twelve at the time." Erik began to shake violently and Selena sat up guardedly. "He took me to the edge of the forest and then… he… he shoved me to the ground. I tried to get up but he pushed me down again. I thought he was going to beat me but then he forced my trousers off and I realised what he wanted and I struggled and tried to get away… I tried… He said it as an honour… that no woman would ever want me… I…" With that he burst into wretched sobs and Selena found herself moving towards him, driven by some innate need to comfort the sinner before her, who she realised now, had never learnt virtue.

She grabbed his hands gently and pulled him to her chaise lounge, laying his head on her lap, stoking his hair methodically as his tears stained her nightgown.

"After… after he finished… I grabbed his dagger… I killed him. He was the first man I killed. I realised the world would always try to hurt me and so I mastered the ultimate skill for protection. That was the end of innocence."

 _The end of innocence…_

Despite the horrors of that night a silent understanding seemed to pass between Selena and Erik in that parlour as two opposite souls found a semblance of peace at the realisation of horrible truths. Things were not always what they seemed. Good and evil was born from moulded innocence. And all innocence was eventually lost.


	18. The Princess

**Hello everyone, once again I'm late for the same reason as always and I apologise. Thank you so much for bearing with me :)**

 **Special shoutout to Tam Lin's rose and TrinJ. Please continue to review everyone. It makes me happy.**

 **Disclaimer: I only own the OC's. Everything else belongs to ALW, Kay or Leroux.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 17: THE PRINCESS  
** **Autumn 1851, Tehran – Erik's POV**

Erik must have fallen asleep because when he awoke his head was still resting on Selena's lap. Rising slowly, he realised she had fallen asleep, her body contorted in an odd position on the chaise lounge, most likely having been unwilling to disturb him.

He rose, though his stiff joints protested with every movement, and picked up the sleeping Selena and deposited her on her bed. Ayesha, who was awake and hungry mewled loudly, completely ignoring Erik's shushes. Worried that the cub would awaken Selena he picked Ayesha up and carried her to the kitchen, where he set about preparing her meal. Though she was still skinny, Erik could see the changes that came about with time and a decent meal. Her protruding ribs were becoming less visible, her walk more confident, her personality more pronounced. The fragile kitten was desperate to survive and with the proper training he had no doubt she would live many more years after they'd released her.

When he had seen the dead mother he had wondered for a fleeting second whether or not it was the same tiger he had painted under the moonlight. It felt like a lifetime ago. He rose and made his way to his study, leaving Ayesha chewing excitedly on her food, and took out the painting. The tiger was just a fleck in the distance. There was no way he would ever know whether it was Ayesha's mother but, if it was, could he have saved it? But no, there was no point dwelling on what could have been. The mother was dead and so were the rest of the cubs.

"That painting," he heard behind him. "It's beautiful!"

He did not turn but addressed Selena anyway. "Though I thank you for your compliment I cannot help but wonder why you are not still asleep. It is barely dawn."

Selena approached him slowly. "I was worried about you."

Erik gave her a sidelong glance before placing the painting back into its drawer. "What is there to be worried about?"

Selena glared at him, though the slight turn of her lip suggested concern rather than anger. "Are you always so keen to dismiss those trying to help you?"

"You will find that they are few and far between," he retorted.

Selena sighed. "Erik, please."

"I'm fine," he snapped brusquely. "Now if you'll excuse me I have much to do and would appreciate some privacy."

Selena sighed and nodded in acknowledgment before exiting the room. Erik sighed and collapsed on a chair, rubbing his temples in a desperate attempt to stop the splitting headache that suddenly overcame him. He took out his journal and began to write.

 _Gone is the carefree nature of our relationship. She does not fear me, not quite, but she is clearly cautious. Though I wish I could say that her concern for me is borne out of affection, I know it is merely pity. The pious girl wishing to redeem the broken man that God has sent to her._

 _Damn the girl. Damn her for making me weak, vulnerable. If the Khanum finds out she would undoubtedly use it to exploit me. Perhaps that is the Khanum's plan. Perhaps the girl is in on the scheme. It is all a ploy to destroy me from the inside out. And I, the fool desperate for love, have fallen for the bait like a starved animal._

 _Love. As if a beautiful, innocent girl like her could ever love something as vile and depraved as this unheavenly corpse._ _My mind has touched the farthest horizons of mortal imagination and reaches ever outward to embrace infinity. There is no knowledge beyond my comprehension, no art or skill upon this entire planet that lies beyond the mastery of my hand. And yet, like Faust, I look in vain, I learn in vain… For as long as I live, no woman will ever look on me in love._

 _What does it matter? It is not like I could ever love her. She is a vain, ignorant, narcissistic, dogmatic, narrow-minded, pompous child. She is… she is…_

 _I love her._

 _I love her._

 _I love her. I love her. I love her._

 _My Eve; my Marguerite; my beautiful, gentle, kind, strong love. Ever infuriating, ever lovely. My Selena._

 _Perhaps I am doomed to forever pine for what can never be. Perhaps, like Tantalus, I shall forever yearn for that which is just beyond my grasp. Perhaps she will fall in love with a handsome lord and live happily ever after while I continue to live upon this hellish mortal plane. Perhaps I shall never know love. But I have hope._

 _When I stand before God and He asks whether there are any actions by which I can be redeemed, I can say: Lord, I have tortured, stolen and killed. I have left behind me only trails of blood and tears. But I knew a woman and I loved her!_

He rose from his seat and made his way to the door of his apartments, pausing only to give Ayesha a gentle pat and to leave a note for Selena, telling her that he would be going to the markets and would not take too long.

For once he strolled leisurely, enjoying the sweet smells that permeated the gardens of the palace. When he reached the stables he darted to Orion, speaking in gentle, hushed tones. Mounting the great Arabian stallion, he cantered to the markets, ignoring the people who scurried away from the stampeding hooves of his horse.

He arrived at the markets and, swinging himself off his still moving horse, made his way to one of his favourite stalls. Yasmin, an aged crone of a woman, bowed timidly at his approach. His visits to that stall were frequent. Yasmin's talent at finding rare artefacts was almost unparalleled. Should Erik wish for something unusual, he was certain she would be able to acquire it.

"What brings you here today, sire?" she rasped.

Erik looked around the stall curiously then addressed the old woman. "I am looking for a gift."

The crone looked up in surprise. "A gift, sire?"

Erik coughed, uncomfortable. "Yes, I was hoping you would be able to help me. Money is, as always, of no consequence."

The old crone cackled. "Well then, tell me what it is you need."

Erik spent the next hour choosing between different models. The crone had an extraordinary variety and Erik, wanting to make sure everything would be perfect, was unwilling to choose idly.

As he pocketed his purchase and handed the old crone a large pouch of coins, finally having decided on his gift, he chanced upon the daroga. The stoic man approached him swiftly and Erik met him half-way.

Erik sighed. "I take it you come with bad news." He gestured, and they began to walk through the busy market.

"Yes," the daroga replied, downhearted. "The princess is to marry the Shah's new vizier. You have been ordered to perform at the wedding."

"And when will this wedding take place?" Erik questioned, distracted.

"In two weeks."

Erik stopped abruptly. "Two weeks. The poor woman just lost her husband, does this godforsaken country not abide by periods of mourning?"

"She's is the Shah's sister," Nadir explained, "and his property to do with as he sees fit."

Erik looked at him, disgusted. "I see. So the girl is transferable. A mere slave to the wiles of politics."

"It is often the custom in such matters⏤"

"Fuck your customs. Practises that legalised rape. That means any man can force himself upon a woman under the veil of custom. I will not take part in such barbarity," Erik exclaimed before storming off.

"Erik!" the daroga called after him, which Erik stubbornly ignored. "Erik!" he called again, though this time he could hear the man storming after him. "What about Selena?"

Erik stopped in his tracks. "What about her? I have never touched her."

Nadir paused for a second. "No, I know you haven't. That is not what I meant."

"Get to the point, Daroga," Erik snapped. "My patience has reached its limit."

Nadir took a deep breath before beginning, seemingly trying desperately to tolerate Erik. "If you do anything against the Shah or the Khanum you will face no questions because you are indispensable. Selena is not. Any crime you commit falls on her shoulders. They know you like her, though they believe it is merely to keep you satisfied. Either way, her loss would cause you pain and they _will_ exploit that, Erik. You cannot refuse unless you are willing to put Selena's life at stake."

Erik reached into his pocket, fingering the gift that was nestled carefully within. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying frantically to calm the terror that suddenly struck him. "Very well. Now I… I must go. There is much still to do."

He rode back to his apartments quickly, petrified that the Khanum had ordered the guards to take Selena away."

He swung open the door to the apartments and began calling out her name. She did not appear. Desperately, he started going room to room, but she was not in her room, or his, or the study, or the parlour⏤

"Erik," he heard her voice from behind him. "Whatever is the matter?"

Erik swung around and ran unthinkingly toward her, drawing her small frame into his arms. He held on to her for a few seconds before he realised what he had done, at which point he hurriedly drew away.

"I am sorry," he apologised. "My actions were wholly inappropriate."

"What's wrong?" she replied simply.

Erik shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "I thought they had taken you. I feared they were going to kill you."

Selena hesitated before clasping his hand and squeezing it gently. "I'm fine Erik. I was just having lunch. Would you like me to prepare you anything?"

Erik was so distracted by the feel of her hands that he did not process her question for quite some time. He merely stared at their entangled hands in awe. "Oh, sorry, no. I am alright. Just skittish I suppose. I apologise."

Selena smiled at him. "It's perfectly alright. We are in a rather nerve-wracking place."

Erik chucked. "That we are. Selena… I… I got you something."

He handed her the wrapped present from his pocket and watched nervously as she peeled back the paper to reveal a golden cross encrusted with rubies.

"I wanted to apologise. You saw the parts of me that I am most ashamed of. You had to listen to me tell you things you should never hear. You saw my face." Erik paused to calm himself. "In return I mocked your faith. The truth is, I envy it. I wish that I could believe in God's mercy but that is something I was never granted. However, that does not excuse the way I treated you. I do not expect your friendship. That would be too much to ask but your civility is a blessing in my eyes."

Uncomfortable, Erik began walking away, determined to hide in his room until Selena retired.

"Erik," Selena began. "I am still your friend. I have thought and prayed about it. God taught me to bestow kindness upon those who we can relegate as monsters, who we can disregard and discard easily. I cannot condone your actions, nor do I accept them, but I cannot judge you. That power lies solely with God. In seeing your sins, I ignored your virtues. That was my mistake. We cannot start over but let us move forward."

Erik nodded enthusiastically, trying to hold back tears. "I promise, Selena. I promise you that I will become a better man.

Selena only nodded. Suddenly there was a loud crash and Ayesha came scurrying out of the kitchen and jumped into Erik's arms, completely covered in food, soiling his coat.

Selena looked at the cub in a mix of amusement and bewilderment. "It appears someone needs another bath. Perhaps you should go change."

Erik chuckled. "Yes, perhaps I should."

He deposited Ayesha in the large tub and strode back to his room to change. After he finished, he returned to the bathroom to find Selena already washing the small cub. She had been careful not to fill the tub too much, only reaching Ayesha's flank. The cub seemed ecstatic, splashing in the water so enthusiastically that Selena struggled to wash her.

Ayesha jumped more eagerly than ever just as Erik approached the tub, spraying him with water and dirtying his fresh clothing.

Selena burst out laughing at Erik's astonished face. "Perhaps you shouldn't have changed so soon."

Erik smiled. "No, perhaps I shouldn't have."


	19. Weddings

**I forgot to mention in the last chapter that these next few chapters are going to be heavily based on Kay's novel and I will be taking many quotes from her, but it will diverge again soon. They're just scenes that are essential to my story so I decided to keep it faithful to the book.**

 **Special shoutouts to Tam Lin's rose, HisRedRose123 and the lovely anonymous reviewer. You guys are amazing! :)**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC's. Everything belongs to either ALW, Leroux or Kay.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 18: WEDDINGS  
** **Autumn 1851, Tehran – Selena's POV**

After the time they had spent bathing Ayesha Erik had all but confined himself in his study designing whatever intrigue was planned for the princess' wedding, leaving Selena to amuse herself.

Though the first few days had been entertaining, in which she busied herself with Ayesha and embroidery, she soon started feeling irked, the repetitiveness of her days taking a toll on her enthusiasm. She had tried to persuade Erik to let her take walks in the gardens, but he had steadfastly denied it, stating that her safety would be compromised without a suitable guard. With Erik and Mr Khan busy most days, her walks were scarce.

One afternoon, as she lay idly on the chaise lounge, stroking Ayesha's fur absentmindedly, Erik appeared and informed her that Darius would arrive soon to escort her to the markets, where she could buy whatever she wished so long as it would keep her occupied.

Selena smiled as he departed, certain that her constant nagging and sighing had finally irritated him enough.

Soon she found herself once again at the bazaar, looking through the stalls. She bought yarn to knit, thread to embroider and a large journal in which to write. She would point to the objects as she chose them, letting Darius buy them. The man had kept quiet during their time together due to their language barrier. His gentle disposition was always a comfort to her, however.

As she pointed to some blue thread, Darius' brow furrowed. "Light blue or dark blue?"

Selena looked at him in surprise. "Light blue, please. You speak English?"

"A little," Darius responded as he bartered with the shopkeeper. "I have been learning."

"Well, you are remarkably good," Selena praised, honestly impressed.

Darius blushed slightly. "Not that good."

"Of course you are," Selena retorted. "You can speak a lot more English than I can Farsi. I am glad we can converse now."

Darius nodded in reply and followed her to the next stall, where she bought some Koloocheh. "Erik loves them though he refuses to admit it," she explained. "The last batch disappeared after two days. He has a rather serious sweet tooth."

Darius stared at her pensively for a while. "You know him well."

"I wouldn't say that," Selena replied. "I know some things about him. He is a very private man."

"Then you know him better than most," Darius said.

Selena laughed. "Knowing that someone likes sweets isn't really that special."

"It is for him," Darius said, completely seriously. Selena only shrugged and continued browsing the stalls. "You like him." It wasn't a question.

Selena looked back at Darius who was trailing behind her. "Of course I like him. He's my friend."

"No," Darius corrected. "You love him. And he loves you."

Selena baulked. "Are you quite mad? I do _not_ love him, and he does not love me."

Darius smirked and kept walking. Angry, Selena caught up with him. "Why ask me these questions? Are you in love with someone and, knowing your love is doomed, aim to project your own frustrated feelings onto me?"

Darius looked at her, confused. "Sorry, I did not understand."

Selena huffed. "Never mind, it was not important. I think I have everything I need."

She returned to the apartments to find Erik feeding Ayesha. When he saw her arrive, he glared at her. "Next time take her with you. She needs fresh air as well."

"Do not worry. He is nervous about the performance." Darius muttered in her ear after Erik left.

Two days later Selena found herself in her room, preparing herself for the wedding. Erik had disappeared into his rooms hours before and had not been seen since.

Selena finished dressing and sat down in the parlour with Ayesha, waiting for Erik. She had grown used to the Persian form of dress and was becoming surprisingly comfortable with it as it was much easier to dress by herself.

When Erik finally appeared, Selena found herself gawking. He was dressed like a dark god, a golden mask covering his face.

He looked at her curiously and cocked his head. "I think I you may have just swallowed a fly."

Selena blushed and closed her mouth, looking down bashfully. "Sorry."

"Come," Erik said, smiling. "It will not do to be late."

Selena resisted the urge to remind him that _he_ was the one who took too long to get ready and followed him to an amphitheatre-like garden where the party was taking place. Tables had been set out and people were feasting. The Shah, the Khanum, the new grand vizier and the princess sat at the table of honour celebrating, though the princess seemed to be crying. Erik and Selena made their way to the table at which Mr Khan sat and took their places.

"Don't eat or drink anything," Erik muttered in her ear, even as he served her with generous quantities of food.

After a while Erik stood and disappeared, leaving Selena alone with Mr Khan. "Is Darius not joining the feast, Mr Khan?"

"No, he is of too low birth to be invited to such a grandiose event," Mr Khan explained. "And I insist that you call me Nadir."

"Very well, Nadir," Selena replied.

At one point Bahar came to her, offering her a drink though she refused. Their conversation was brief. There was nothing to be said.

Suddenly Erik appeared once again, a large sarcophagus trailing behind him. How it moved by itself, Selena could not understand. When Erik stopped so did the casket. He smiled, cocked his head and the lid fell to the ground with a tremendous crash, causing everyone to jump. When the scared muttering subsided, he turned back to the sarcophagus, gesturing to it with a bony hand and began singing in his native French.

 _Come forth from your dark sleep.  
_ _Come to the Angel of Doom,  
_ _And show the living fate which awaits…_

Selena watched in rapture as a wailing shriek emanated from the coffin, chilling her to the bone. A skeleton appeared from within the casket and came to stand unsupported and erect next to Erik. Selena tried in vain to understand the mechanics that could operate such a magic trick, but without a true stage there was no way to hide anything. Together they moved forward and came to stand before the grand vizier where it seemed to grin menacingly at him before, with a flick of Erik's wrist the skeleton collapsed in a pile of scattered bones. The grand vizier visibly trembled and even the Shah seemed perturbed.

Erik bowed at the pale countenance of the attendees and muttered something to the grand vizier as he handed him a ring that he plucked from inside the skeleton's skull.

"What did he say?" Selena whispered to Nadir as the crowd sat in stunned silence.

"'I trust Your Excellency's son will prove less careless with his second-hand possessions'," Nadir replied quietly.

Suddenly the Khanum began to clap enthusiastically and the crowd burst into thunderous applause. The Shah handed Erik a large purse of money and Erik bowed, taking the skull with him and departed, leaving the rest of the skeleton to be inspected by the gawking spectators.

Though the applause was enthusiastic, Selena could not help but feel uneasy. Though she was not well versed in politics, she could see that what Erik had said had struck a chord in the Shah and Khanum, who sat angrily at their table, muttering in hushed tones. Nadir had begun talking to a man whose eager laughter assured Selena that he had partaken in far too much wine. Erik hadn't actually left, but was lingering in a corner, staring at the skull until a servant appeared before him, handing him a large goblet of wine. Nadir had informed Selena that, though alcohol was forbidden in his religion, it was a commonly ignored rule.

Selena sat silently, staring intently at her own goblet and considering whether she should drink. When she looked back up Erik had disappeared. For a while she ignored it as it wasn't an uncommon occurrence but eventually concern won over.

"Erik has disappeared," she stated to Nadir, who was also looking around in concern.

"I know," he muttered. He scanned the area for a few more seconds. Then he stood, dragging Selena up with him. "We must find him."

Together they made their way through the guests unnoticed and, after a brief search of the party, walked back to his apartments. The door was slightly ajar when they entered, and the skull was lying on the ground.

They eventually found Erik in the bathroom, vomiting blood into the pristine white bath, his mask nowhere to be seen. Ayesha licked his hand sympathetically, but Erik ignored her. He looked around and, catching Selena's eye, swore in an ungentlemanly manner.

Shocked out of her catatonic state, Selena rushed forward with a pitiful cry and held back the hair that had fallen to his face even as he struggled weakly to dislodge her.

"That wine," Nadir murmured from behind her. "How many times have I told you to employ the taster?"

"Many times," Erik gasped between two particularly violent convulsions. "Now if you don't mind, I would prefer to die without an audience. I'm certain that if you ask nicely they will return your money at the door."

Selena tried helplessly to hold him. "Don't say such horrid things! You're not going to die! You will be perfectly fine."

"Do you know what you took?" Nadir asked helplessly.

"No," he replied, more blood tainting the bathtub. "I do not make a point of studying toxins. They are not an aesthetically pleasing form of death."

Nadir looked at him pointedly for several seconds as Selena tried to ignore his morbidity. "Ground glass could explain the internal bleeding, but they could have mixed It with any number of other poisons."

Selena felt Erik shudder in her arms. "How long?"

"If you're lucky you have two days, but stronger men have been known to survived for ten," Nadir stated in resignation.

Erik started at Nadir for several seconds before collapsing, letting his head rest on Selena's shoulder. She held him and wept in desperation, cradling his trembling body. "No, no, no, no, no. No, you can't. You'll be fine. I'm going to find a way to fix you."

Erik looked pointedly at Nadir. "Ten days. I could get to Ashraf then."

Nadir baulked. "You cannot be serious. You would never survive the journey, Erik. It's madness."

Selena could feel Erik weakening quickly. His body shuddered in pain with every movement. "I must, Nadir. There are still so many instructions to give. And… I have to see it… one last time."

"Erik," Nadir began calmly. "You'll be dead long before we reach the palace. Why subject yourself to so much more unnecessary pain?"

Erik tried to laugh, though all that came out was an agonised wheeze. "Pain… pain is nothing, Nadir… compared to the regret… and frustration." He stopped clenching Selena's arm painfully as his body racked in anguish. Selena held him tighter, tears falling down her face. "Please, please… get me to Mazandaran… then Ashraf… secretly… tonight… please…"

Selena looked up at Nadir desperately, unsure of what to do. Whether to allow him his last wish even if it meant subjecting him to more pain or to break his heart but make him comfortable.

Finally, Nadir nodded his assent.

"Thank you," Erik muttered, his eyes beginning to close tiredly and addressed Selena for the first time. "Selena, my dear, help me pack."

Selena was surprised at his term of endearment for a second but decided to allow him whatever he wanted. He was dying so it was only fair. She helped him stand and move to his bedroom where he promptly collapsed on his bed, telling Selena what to pack as she rushed about the room. Ayesha returned faithfully to Erik's side and began licking his face, purring. Erik tried to stroke her, but his arms were too weak to move.

By dusk they were ready to leave. Nadir had arranged for a caravan to transport Erik, though the masked man had insisted that Orion still accompany them. As the last light faded on the horizon they departed, with Selena holding Ayesha firmly to her chest as tears poured down her cheeks.


	20. Deathbed

**First and foremost, I would like to thank my lovely reviewers: Tam Lin's rose and jhsbradford. You're continued support is what keeps me going.**

 **Secondly, I would like to thank everyone else who has read thus far. I am completely overwhelmed by the amount of views I've had just this month. Thank you all for putting up with my tardy updates.**

 **Anyway, let us continue on with Selena's journey in coping with Erik's imminent demise. I'm sure she's coping quite well ;)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 19: DEATHBED  
** **Autumn and Winter 1851, Mazandaran and Ashraf – Selena's POV**

Selena couldn't stand the gasps that occasionally emanated from the caravan. Erik tolerated his pain better than could be expected but even he wasn't strong enough to ignore it entirely.

She had tried several times to distract him but was met only with vicious words. Though she knew he did not mean them, it still pained her to hear them, especially when he was quite content to let Ayesha lick his face incessantly.

The caravan hit a bump and Erik let out a startled yelp and groan. Then, he lapsed once again into agonised silence.

"He won't make it to Mazandaran, will he?" Selena asked, making Nadir sigh.

"I do not know. The journey will most likely be too much, even for him."

"Is there any cure? Anything at all?" Selena continued desperately.

Nadir looked at her with pity. "I don't know what poisons he ingested and without that knowledge…" he paused. There was nothing more that needed to be said. "Even if I knew the poisons, chances are that there would be nothing we could do. I'm sorry Selena but he will die soon."

Tears began to fall down Selena's cheeks again. "He's so young. It isn't fair."

Nadir didn't respond for a long time, gazing thoughtfully into the distance. Selena suddenly remembered Reza.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean "

"It is quite alright," Nadir interrupted. "You're right. It isn't fair."

Selena dismounted Dana and made her way to the caravan, jumping in with more elegance than she expected. Erik opened his eyes as he saw her enter and groaned.

"Go away, Selena. Let me rest in peace."

Stubbornly, Selena remained and began stoking his hair gently.

Erik tried feebly to move away. "Leave me be, girl."

Selena held her ground. "For once dismiss your pride, Erik."

"It's all I have," Erik muttered childishly, closing his eyes.

"Not anymore, Erik. You don't realise how many people care for you. You have me, Nadir, Reza, Darius. You're not alone anymore." Selena stopped talking, realising he'd fallen asleep.

The rest of their journey to Mazandaran was uneventful. Erik mostly slept, and Selena re-joined Nadir, though they rarely spoke. Only once had Erik acknowledged Nadir's presence, entrusting him with rolls of blueprints for the palace that were to be given to the architect Amir on the event of Erik's death. Selena tried her best to ignore the last part.

Ayesha remained loyally at Erik's side, only leaving to mewl for food. By Erik's estimations they had agreed that the cub was around three months old. With food being plentiful, she was growing steadily bigger and stronger. Her appetite was becoming insatiable, but no one had the heart to deny her anything when she looked up with those innocent honey-coloured eyes.

When the palace of Mazandaran began looming in the horizon Selena found herself at a loss for words. It was the most stunning building she had ever laid eyes on. The roof upon which she had spent time with Erik was finished and gleaming with golden tiles. The design had a distinctly Persian feel to it though she could see in the large tinted windows echoes of the West. Though the outside seemed elegant and traditional, Selena knew that the inside belonged only to the future. New designs mixed with old to form a kaleidoscopic picture that was almost ethereal. His genius had created the greatest masterpiece of the century.

Erik, however, was less than amused. He forced himself to a sitting position and gestured to Nadir. "Give me those plans! Now!"

As Nadir searched through his packs and Erik tapped impatiently, Amir ran out of a tent to greet his employer, who with papers in hand whacked the man upside the head, causing Selena to let out a startled giggle that was met only with glares. "You are lucky that I do not have a whip. You have failed to follow my instructions."

Once again Nadir was kind enough to translate for her.

Amir trembled. "Forgive me sire. I did not understand them. It was all too complex."

"The next time you do not understand something," Erik said, letting out a calming breath. "You ask. Do you understand, you damned fool?"

"You weren't here sire. I wanted to ask but you weren't here." Amir let out with a shuddering breath.

"Yes, I suppose you are right," Erik whispered. Selena could see his tired body giving in to the bliss of sleep once again. "Come to my tent. I will explain everything to you and if you don't understand, you will ask. Do you understand? I will repeat myself as many times as necessary, but everything must be perfect."

Selena dismounted quickly and helped Erik stand and shuffle to his tent, which was fortunately close by. For hours they spoke in a language she was still unable to comprehend, much to her frustration. Only a handful of times did a familiar word grace her ears but never enough to make out even a sentence. Giving up, she concentrated instead on making sure Erik was alright. She could see his pained shudders though he tried to ignore them, and his voice became progressively quieter. As they finished Erik let out a quiet sigh. He stood, and Selena's heart fell to her stomach. She did not have time to reach him before he fell in a heap, unconscious.

Amir and Nadir managed to place him back in the caravan, Selena trailing behind worriedly. This time she let Nadir lead Dana, opting instead to stay with Erik until they reached Ashraf. Only two hours after they left Mazandaran Erik was sweating with a fever. Selena tried her best to keep him cool, covering his face and chest with rags dipped in cool water, but it did nothing and the heat of the desert was only making his fever rise.

By the time they reached Ashraf, Erik was delirious. He flailed and groaned, stuck in ancient nightmares.

"Father… father… papa… father why? Why did you make me?... I didn't… didn't mean to… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

As Nadir bent down to pick him up, Erik gripped his arm.

"Let me out! Let me out! I hate this filthy cage! Don't touch me! Let me out!"

Nadir tried to pry Erik away, but he fought like a madman, scratching the Persian's arms until they bled. Tears were pouring down his face and he suddenly became deathly still.

"Don't touch me. Get away! Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't hurt me! Get away! Get away!"

Knowing what Erik was dreaming of, Selena pulled Nadir off him and grasped his thrashing arms, whispering nonsense to him in soft tones.

"Sasha… where's Sasha?" His voice became suddenly very quiet. "Where's my Sasha?"

"She's here, Erik. Right here." Selena whispered gently. He calmed, though he still moved around nervously until Ayesha, who had hidden in a corner, frightened by his violent outburst, returned to his side. He smiled suddenly and held on to the little cub tightly.

"Don't let her out," he pleaded, holding Ayesha more tightly to his chest and closing his eyes. "Please don't let her out tonight."

Selena promised, and he fell asleep.

They managed to carry him into the house after that, placing him comfortably on a bed. Selena stayed by his side after Nadir told her begged her not to tell Reza that Erik was in the house. At dusk Nadir wheeled the child in, looking defeated.

"Do you think he can hear me?" the boy asked as he hugged Selena tightly.

Nadir sighed. "I don't think so, but you can try."

"Erik, Erik you have to wake up," Reza insisted, gripping his sweaty palm. "My music man is broken, and I need you to fix it. No one else knows how to do it."

The poor boy repeated his innocent request over and over again, becoming steadily more agitated. Finally, Nadir wheeled him away, concerned for the boy's already frail health. Ayesha followed them, most likely curious about the new addition to her little family. As they passed the threshold of the door, Selena saw Erik's fingers twitch. She decided to say nothing. It was most likely just a dream.

For a long time, Selena simply watched Erik's chest rise and fall weakly, alternating between states of tearful grief and numbness. She expected every breath to be his last and every time he did not breathe for slightly longer she found herself desperately checking his pulse.

She sang to him then, hoping that it would prevent her from falling asleep. Her voice was mediocre at best. Though she could carry a tune her timbre was not unique or pure. It was the voice of the masses, but Erik loved music and she hoped it would at least ease his passing.

The next morning, she awoke with a start, finding herself on the chair next to Erik's bed, her head laying comfortably on the mattress. Erik was still asleep but someone had entered and deposited his trunks in his rooms. She was shocked to find her hand gripping his tightly. She let go and changed the wet rag on his forehead, pleased to find his fever gone. Then, she tried to give him some water, massaging his throat so he swallowed.

Bored, she began unpacking his things, placing them neatly on shelves. She couldn't understand why she bothered if he was going to die at any minute. Perhaps it was to trick her mind into believing he would recover. Perhaps it was simply a distraction. It didn't matter either way, so she continued.

At the bottom of the trunk she found a small pile of journals. Curiously, she opened them. Though what she was doing felt wrong she could not help it. He would never know anyway. Still, her guilt only allowed her to flick though the pages briefly, catching only words and sentences.

 _I knew nothing but shadows and I thought them to be real…_

 _This face, which has denied me all human rights, also frees me of all obligation to the human race…_

 _My mother hated me_

… _exhibited like an animal in a cage…_

She stopped suddenly at one of his most recent entries.

 _My mind has touched the farthest horizons of mortal imagination and reaches ever outward to embrace infinity. There is no knowledge beyond my comprehension, no art or skill upon this entire planet that lies beyond the mastery of my hand. And yet, like Faust, I look in vain, I learn in vain… For as long as I live, no woman will ever look on me in love._

 _What did it matter? It is not like I could ever love her. She is vain, ignorant, narcissistic, dogmatic, narrow-minded, pompous child. She is… she is…_

 _I love her._

 _I love her._

 _I love her. I love her. I love her._

 _My Eve; my Marguerite; my beautiful, gentle, kind, strong love. Ever infuriating, ever lovely. My Selena._

Oh God…

.

Selena closed the journal quickly and placed it on a shelf with the others.

Oh God…

She walked up to Erik slowly, taking in every inch of him. His sunken eyes, his cracked lips, his scarred hands, his long limbs. She was loved by a corpse. No, not a corpse… not yet at least. For now, he was just a man, a very ugly man but a man nonetheless. He loved _her_.

Selena stood there staring at him, not knowing how to react. She was both disgusted and elated. She sat down by his side and gripped his hand. They carried the blood of so many men. She could not be loved by a murderer.

She could see his eyes moving behind their closed sockets. He had the most beautiful eyes, even if they were unnervingly penetrating.

Unable to contain herself, she lifted her hand and placed it on his cheek, doing her best to ignore her trembling. Erik smiled in his sleep and snuggled into her hand. His smile was grotesque. He looked like a grinning skull, but he looked so innocent, so _happy_.

Oh God…

Slowly, she began stroking every inch of his skeletal face, from his cheeks to his forehead, to his eyelids, down the bridge of his non-existent nose and finally to his chapped lips. She traced them gently and gulped. Drawing in a large breath for courage she bent down and kissed them. Tears poured down her eyes and fell onto his cheeks the moment his dry, thin lips made contact with her smooth ones. She pulled away for a second before dropping her head on the crook of his shoulder. She sobbed into his neck for a long time as the realisation dawned upon her. He couldn't die, he just couldn't.

As her sobs turned to hiccups she rose again, cradling his head in her hands. "I don't know if you can hear me but it's worth a try. I love you, Erik! I love you so please wake up. Please."

Her voice cracked, and her tired eyes filled with tears once again. A creak made her turn. Nadir was standing in the doorway, looking at her with pity. He'd heard her. Pushing away propriety in her grief, she lunged herself into his arms, taking comfort in his fatherly affection. He held her until she finally stopped crying and then led her back to Erik's bedside, knowing that she would be unable to leave his side. He let her lay down next to Erik, though she remained above the covers and soon, she fell into a deep slumber.

That night Erik opened his eyes staring at Selena with surprising lucidity. His tongue licked his parched lips for a second as he stared at her intently before his attention turned to Nadir. "Why didn't you tell me that the music man was broken?"


	21. Reza

**I have an exam tomorrow and I am so nervous. I thought I wouldn't be able to get this chapter in on time because of it but I'd hate to disappoint my faithful readers so I hope you enjoy reading it.**

 **Anyone who has read Kay knows that this chapter was coming very soon and now it is finally here. For those who haven't… it's really sad but necessary.**

 **As always, please, please, please review :). Special thanks to Tam Lin's rose and Espaol!**

 **Espaol: Thank you so much for reviewing and I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. It will be updated every Monday and though sometimes it may be a couple of days late, you'll definitely get one chapter a week.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 20: REZA  
** **Winter 1851, Ashraf – Erik's POV**

It had been a month since he had awoken from his poison-induced coma and Erik found himself sitting with a cup of tea in his hands, Selena sipping her own drink across from him and Ayesha pawing lazily at the silks of her mistress' robes.

He tried his best to ignore the way her pink lips grasped the edge of the cup and beautiful eyes looked up at him periodically, much as he had ignored her presence in his bed when he'd first awoken. She was most likely merely looking after him and had accidentally fallen asleep. Either way he would not question her, it would lead to far too much awkwardness that he was unwilling to endure. Better to just forget… or try to.

It was impossible. He could still feel the pressure of her head on his shoulder and her soft hair tickling his nose. The startled look on her face when she realised the compromising position they were in. The parted lips, the wide eyes, the red cheeks. She looked so beautiful in that moment.

Then there was his dream. It haunted him, brimming to the forefront of his memory every time he looked into Selena's mesmerising orbs. Her declaration of love, her kiss… his first kiss. The pressure of her lips on his, so soft and innocent. He looked at her sipping her tea and was met with the sudden urge to kiss her delectable lips; to make the dream a reality. But no. It was sinful; sinful to dream of tainting such purity with his awful lips. He could never allow himself to have such dreams again. She deserved to have a pretty, rich husband with an untainted past. She deserved a large manor with a large garden. Fancy parties, beautiful children. She deserved to _live_ , not merely survive.

"Erik, are you alright?" Selena disrupted his plaguing thoughts with her heavenly voice. He'd heard her sing. Her sweet little voice. Clearly not the voice of a world-renowned soprano but it was _hers_.

"Yes, my dear. I was just deep in thought," he replied, instantly cursing his endearment. He had gained a nasty habit of calling her 'my dear' and though she had voiced no protest, her gentle blush indicated her discomfort. She wasn't his and he would do well to remember it.

Selena smiled prettily at him. "You've been deep in thought quite a lot recently."

"Yes. It appears that the realisation of one's own mortality tends to make one far more pensive," Erik declared, beaming at the giggle that escaped her pretty lips.

The daroga suddenly appeared from inside the house and looked at Erik with concern. "A messenger has arrived from Tehran."

Erik sighed and rose making his way to the main entrance, Selena and the daroga following quietly.

The messenger did not even have time to open his mouth before Erik threw a large bag of coins at him, watching as the man comically dove to catch it, looking inside in marvel. "You never survived the trip here. Leave Persia and make a better life for yourself. If you betray me there will be no hovel you can crawl into where I will not find you. I will strip the skin from your bones and leave you in agony for the wolves to find." The dazed man nodded quickly and ran back to his horse, riding off into the distance.

"This will not buy you much time. The Khanum will send another messenger," the daroga commented from beside him.

"Two months are all I need," Erik murmured sadly.

"Two months?" Nadir questioned, raising his eyebrows. "Surely it will take longer that to complete the palace."

Erik looked towards Reza, who was in the garden, enjoying the sun's warmth. Though he had become to blind to see more than flashes of movement, he made a point to always declare that he could still feel and hear. In the garden, with the sounds of insects, birds and the wind, the boy felt more alive than anywhere else. Even at night he insisted upon falling asleep with the window open, so he could listen to the 'sounds of the night', as he so called them. "I wasn't talking about the palace."

The daroga followed Erik, looking at his son and letting out a choking sob. "Surely he has more time?"

Erik looked at him sadly. "More time of agony as he slowly loses the ability to swallow and breathe. Time is cruel, Nadir. I… I have a poison. It's painless, he'll just fall asleep. It is far more kind. I can make these last months the happiest in memory. Let me paint him a rainbow."

Overcome with emotion, the daroga nodded and swiftly made his way over to his son. From a distance, Erik could see that they were talking, Reza smiling as his father told him some particularly amusing joke.

"Poor boy," Selena murmured behind him, picking up Ayesha, who had begun shedding the fabric of her clothes in an attempt to climb into Selena's arms. "He doesn't deserve this."

"No, no he doesn't," Erik agreed. "Would you be willing to help me paint him that rainbow, my dear?"

"Of course."

The pair made their way back into the house, already starting their plans.

The next two months flew by quickly. They were a kaleidoscope of colour, laughter and music, a combination that could only have been created by the talented mind of a master magician. Music swirled about them, filling the estate with sound beyond their wildest imaginings. Reza's laughter echoed throughout the day and at night a gentle smile tugged at his young lips. Only in the moments when he visibly deteriorated did it create a moment where the magic came to a screeching halt, but even in those moments Erik's skilful hand pulled at invisible strings, reviving the happiness and allowing it to stomp on the misery that Reza's imminent demise created. Several times a messenger came, and Erik would hand them a purse of money and a promise of severe punishment should they betray him to the Khanum.

But time is a cruel mistress. She passed quickly, far too quickly. One morning, as they all sat together eating their morning meal Reza let out a shuddering gasp. He struggled to breathe for several seconds. Eventually, his muscles gave in to his demands and with one final wheeze his breathing returned to normal. The poor boy could not see the agonised look in his father's eyes or the sadness that lurked in Selena and Erik's. It was time.

That afternoon, after Reza had departed to his room, Selena, Erik, Nadir and Ayesha lounged in the parlour. The magic was gone, and the room was filled with a gloomy darkness.

Slowly Erik reached into his pocket and retrieved a small vial, placing it in the daroga's trembling hands.

"No," Nadir shook his head. "There has to be more time. I'll let nature take its course, he'll have more time."

"More time would be cruel for him, you know that Nadir." Erik retorted, though there was no malice in his words, only sad acceptance.

Tears began pouring down the older man's face. "I can't. He's my son, Erik, my only child. He's the only thing I have left. You must understand… I just cannot do it."

Erik looked at the haggard man for a long time before letting out a loud sigh. "Stay here."

He stood and, picking up a Quran, headed to Reza's room, ignoring Ayesha, who had decided to follow him. The boy was awake, listening to a pair of singing birds fly past his window from his bed.

"Hello Reza," Erik greeted him.

"Uncle Erik!" Reza exclaimed, his happiness only adding to the guilt that gnawed at Erik's heart. Ayesha jumped onto Reza's lap and the boy giggled. The two had become close, their playful natures making them a highly compatible pair.

"I thought I might read to you," Erik stated, taking a chair and sitting beside the boy.

"Oh, yes please," the boy responded, clapping his hands in excitement before returning his hands to the tiger cub's fur. His speech had become so slurred it was sometimes hard to grasp his words. "What will you read?"

"The Quran," Erik replied simply, opening the book.

Reza's brow furrowed. "No, that's boring. I want a story full of adventure!"

"Not today, Reza," Erik told him sternly though he smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "I'll tell you a story tomorrow."

"Will it have lots of adventures?" the boy asked excitedly.

Erik laughed sadly. "More than you can count."

"And magic?" Reza continued.

"Of course."

"Alright, then I guess you can read the Quran today." Reza decided, though he slumped slightly.

Erik sat on the edge of the bed and began to read. He was well aware of the power his voice possessed. He spoke slowly and calmly, lulling the boy into a tired slumber. As his eyes began to droop Erik picked up Ayesha, who mewed in displeasure, took out the vial and put it at the boy's lips. The boy swallowed instinctively.

At that moment Nadir and Selena's slipped into the room. Nadir immediately ran to his son's bedside and Erik stood with the cub, allowing the father to have the last moments with his son.

Erik stood beside Selena and waited, watching the young boy take his last breath, a small smile on his face as his father spoke to him in hushed tones. Nadir let out an anguished wail, picking up his frail son and holding him desperately to his chest as if that might awaken the boy. Erik looked to Selena and saw her crying, though she did not utter a sound.

Overcome with emotion, Erik strode out of the child's chamber, pausing only to give Ayesha to Selena and locked himself in his own rooms. He took off his mask and looked into the mirror. He had asked for Nadir to remove the looking glass many times, but the blasted man insisted that it was a guest room and, therefore, had to have a mirror. His skull-like face looked back at him mockingly. The face of a monster.

He let out a strangled cry and punched the mirror, the glass shattering and piercing his hand, leaving it covered in blood. He ignored it and began rampaging across the room, shattering lamps, overturning tables, shredding paper. Anything, anything to forget. How he longed for the sweet release of opium but here there was none.

Selena chose that moment to enter the room and screeched to a halt as she saw its state of disarray. She stared at him and he expected her to run in disgust. He could only imagine how he looked – unmasked, tears streaking down his face, blood pouring down his hand, his clothes haggard. Instead she approached him slowly as one might approach an injured animal. She didn't speak. There was no need for words. She led him to the bed and bade him sit before leaving the room for a few minutes. Erik had half a mind to continue his rampage but, becoming suddenly too exhausted he merely slumped on the bed.

Finally, Selena returned with several bandages and two basins, one filled with water. She picked up his injured hand a took out some tweezers from inside a pocket and began slowly picking out the shards of glass, placing them carefully in the empty basin. She then began washing his injuries with the warm water, pausing when he let out a quiet gasp of pain. He nodded for her to continue and she did, diligently making sure every wound was clean before beginning to bandage his hand.

How very kind his sweet Selena was. How very loyal. How he wished to hold her, taking comfort in her warm embrace but he would not dare to ask her for such a thing.

It turns out he didn't need to ask. Selena left the room, swiftly with her supplies, returning soon after empty-handed. She looked at him from the doorway for a few seconds, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Her eyes were puffy, her lip was quivering, her cheeks were still stained with old tear-tracks but, God, she was beautiful.

She approached him once again, her eyes gleaming with gentle determination and Erik felt himself tense under her scrutiny. She sat beside him, their legs brushing softly and tenderly placed his head on her petite shoulder, resting her own head atop his. Soon he was weeping once again, this time into the material of her shirt. She held him tightly, rocking him slowly to and fro.

The next day they watched lugubriously as Reza was lowered to the ground, his final resting place. Erik did not speak to Nadir, certain that the man would not be willing to face his son's murderer. Selena, for some odd reason, had not come to her senses and stood beside him, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. she still steadfastly refused to look at him in contempt, despite having spoken several times to Nadir since the previous day.

He killed a child and she didn't hate him. Perhaps she had hit her head somewhere.

For a week Erik lurked about the estate, quiet as a phantom, avoiding Nadir and Selena as best he could, unwilling to think of the unbearable guilt that weighed upon his heart like lead. Selena, bless her, tried her best to find him, tempting him with sweet platitudes but he would shy away, retiring to his room wherein he would weep silently. Only Ayesha could find him, her keen feline instinct far more adept at hunting. She would comfort him as best she could, filling his hands and face with wet licks and his ears with gentle purrs. The tender beast would refuse to depart until she was certain he was adequately soothed.

Then, another messenger came. Erik did not protest when the man ordered his return to Tehran. That very afternoon he departed with Selena and Ayesha, Nadir being bound to remain in his estate to indulge ancient connections who were came to offer condolences.

He only looked back once as Ashraf melted in the horizon, determined to never return.


	22. Escape

**Thank goodness I managed to post this on time. I have an exam today and tomorrow and wasn't sure how much time I'd have in between studying and sleeping.**

 **This is officially my longest chapter! A looooot of stuff will happen and it takes place over the course of almost 6 months. I** _ **was**_ **going to divide it into more but honestly it would have just dragged on and gotten boring. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Special shoutout to Tam Lin's rose. Thank you so much for your** **review!**

 **I hope you guys enjoy it though! Please don't forget to review and tell me what you think :)**

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 **CHAPTER 21: ESCAPE  
** **Spring and Summer 1852, Tehran – Erik's POV**

Though he desperately longed for her touch and her voice, Erik refused to grant himself such pleasure. He was undeserving of such beauty. When she tried to speak he would snap at her to be silent, claiming that her constant nagging was irritating. Even to his ears the excuse sounded pathetic.

Whether or not she believed him, Selena stayed quiet, only speaking when absolutely necessary and ignoring his sharp retorts.

When they arrived at their apartments, Erik immediately beelined to his rooms, leaving Selena and Ayesha alone in the parlour. He desperately rummaged through his drawers, desperate to find the sweet siren that called to him. The opium was hidden in the bottom drawer, and, stuffing his hookah with obscene quantities of the sweet drug, he let himself be lulled into a state of unaware bliss.

For once he was able to dream of Selena without the nagging guilt and shame that often accompanied his transgression.

He dreamed of her kissing his lips and his eyes shotting open, like some macabre and reversed version of Sleeping Beauty. They would declare their love under the stars and kiss passionately, uncaring of the judgements of good society. He felt his face changing then, as he kissed her beautiful, pink lips. His skin gained a healthy pallor, a nose grew, his body filled out. He looked like a young gentleman worthy of his beauty's hand. He was attractive, nay, handsome.

She disappeared from his grasp, pulled away by some unseen force and Erik panicked. Where did they take her? Had she left him?

The scene around him changed. Night became day and he found himself in an unfamiliar study, the sunlight peeking brightly through the window. A middle-aged man sat before him, staring at him pointedly and Erik remembered he was not wearing his mask. Panicked, he drew his hand to his face only to touch a long-pointed object at the centre of his face. _Oh yes, that's right, I have a nose._

The older man continued to stare, and Erik squirmed in his chair. When had the plush softness become so uncomfortable?

Finally, the man rose, and Erik rose with him, his hands trembling imperceptibly. At that moment some recess of his subconscious pulled out a distant recollection. He was standing before Selena's father, Edward Turnour, the fourth Earl Winterton. His salt and pepper hair and portly physique made him appear like a docile creature, but Erik could not help but gulp down terror as the man observed his every move. In a blink of an eye a woman appeared behind the Earl. She was quite short and small, appearing even less threatening than her husband. Her dark hair and blue-green eyes were exactly the same as her daughter's and just as fierce. He feared Maria Turnour far more than her husband.

The couple shared a furtive glance and Erik shrank back, certain that he was doomed. Then, the Earl turned back to Erik and gave him a gentle smile. "You have our blessing."

The scene shifted again. He was in a beautiful garden and in the distance Selena's family home rose proudly. He was walking with Selena on his arm, small beads of sweat pouring down his neck and his heart beating so hard he thought it might just explode. Beside her, a fully grown Ayesha strode loyally, seemingly content to roam around aimlessly. Selena was speaking, and he struggled to understand what she was saying, his nerves deafening his ears.

"…so you see, that is why we no longer speak to my first cousin once removed… Erik, dear, are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

Erik looked down at her wide eyes, feeling suddenly bashful. "Forgive me, my love. I was in another world."

Selena smiled, looking more amused than offended. "You've been terribly distracted for a while now. Are you going to tell me what has been bothering you?"

Erik took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. He bent down on one knee and took a small hand in his own, the other reaching into his coat pocket. He was so nervous he almost missed Selena's gasp, her hands covering her mouth as tears pooled in her eyes. Erik resisted the urge to burst into pathetic sobs and grovel at her feet, begging for her to have him, and instead squared his shoulders. "Miss Turnour. You have made me the most happy of men. Every time I look at you I see my whole world. I know I am not half the man you deserve but I love you and if you'll have me, I will strive to make you the happiest woman alive. I promise to cherish you, respect you and adore you. I promise never to leave your side. God, I'll give you anything you want. Were it in my power I would give you the moon or the sun or every star in the sky. I love you Selena, so much. Would you…" he stopped to clear his throat, ignoring the tears leaking out of his eyes. "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Selena stood staring in shock at him for what seemed like years. Losing hope, he closed his eyes, only to feel Selena encircling him in a crushing embrace. "Of course I will." With those simple words he sobbed.

After that the world began changing progressively more rapidly, showing him snippets of his future. He was in a Church, Selena before him wearing a stunning white and gold gown. She looked at him with such love as the priest declared them as husband and wife that Erik thought he would melt. They kissed and their surroundings changed again.

They were in bed, Selena lying very much naked under him. She grinned coyly and kissed him once again making him groan. Their joining was sweet, their moans mingling in the air. God, how he loved her.

They were walking in the park next, a little girl and a little boy running ahead, shouting at each other in a playful competition. Their children. The little girl's raven curls bounced as she ran. Her little legs got caught in a branch and she fell, bursting into loud sobs. Erik ran to her and she turned around to face him. To his horror, his own gruesome face stared back at him, her golden eyes still spilling tears. The little boy had turned as well, his face the splitting image of Reza's. The boy looked at his sister sadly and took out a small vial. The poison! Before Erik could stop him, the boy took a swig and collapsed, dead.

Erik turned to look at Selena, wide eyed and panicked. Selena sneered at him as if he were the vermin of the earth. "You destroy everything you touch."

His eyes spun, and he felt himself retching. He felt as if a thousand clawed demons were slashing him.

 _Erik…_

 _Erik…_

"Erik."

He startled awake to see Selena kneeling before him. She had opened the window of his room, letting the opium smoke dissipate in the wind. The acidic taste in his mouth and the puddle next to him verified that his retching had not been merely a dream.

Selena seemed to only radiate concern over his dishevelled appearance.

"Get out," he croaked, forcing himself into a sitting position.

Selena ignored him. "I brought you some tea and biscuits. The sweet ones that you like. What is this awful stuff that you've been smoking anyway?"

She continued talking while pouring some tea. It was too painful to see her face, so gentle and carefree when only seconds before he had seen it contorted, disgusted by his tainted soul.

"Get out," he repeated, desperate to forget her words.

 _You destroy everything you touch._

Once again, Selena stubbornly ignored him. Erik exploded, his mind still reeling from the effects of the opium. "Are you deaf or stupid, woman? I told you to get out!"

He grabbed her by the arm and flung her out of the room, ignoring her pained yelp as her shoulder made contact with the wall behind her. He could not bear her kindness.

Her words continued to echo in his head. _You destroy everything you touch._

She did not seek him out after that, choosing to keep to herself, Ayesha her only company. Darius became her loyal guard, escorting her to the gardens or the bazaar, or wherever else she wished to go. Erik did not know and tried to convince himself that she didn't care. He could not help the jealousy that ate at him when she heard the two laughing together. How he wished it were so easy for him.

Occasionally she would bring him food, entering and exiting without a word. Most of the time he would be too drugged or too drunk to react either way.

Alcohol had never appealed to him as much as it did after Reza's death. He found that mixing both opium and liquor created a fantastic effect, knocking him out and preventing any dreams. Sometimes he even added a little bit of heroin to the mix. He knew it could, and probably would, kill him eventually, but he could not bring himself to care. No one would miss him if he died. The migraine he would get once he woke up was a fitting punishment for his monstrous ways.

During his most intoxicated moments, inspiration would strike him, and he would compose ghastly music or design horrific torture chambers. The designs would be delivered to the Khanum the next day.

After three weeks of debauchery he returned to Mazandaran, leaving only with a few threatening words to Darius that, should anything happen to Selena during his absence, he would make sure the young Persian would die a slow and agonising death.

Upon his arrival, Amir immediately came running, his hands visibly trembling. Erik was pleased to find the palace exactly as he wanted it. Another five months at most and it would be complete. Oh, it would be spectacular! The greatest wonder of the world!

He stayed for weeks. He told himself he wished to personally oversee the construction and ensure that everything remained on schedule, but it wasn't the truth. He merely wished to avoid Selena.

When he returned to Tehran, it was to find his apartments empty. Selena and Darius were most likely at the markets. Hell, they were probably in his bed. Surely their relationship could not be one of friends. She had probably spread her pretty little legs for him the day he left for Mazandaran.

He was denied a long bout of self-pity by a large orange cat that pounced at him as he put his pack down. It was Ayesha! He had not paid attention to her since their time in Ashraf and was surprised to find how large she had grown. Her head now easily reached his knee. Her baby-like appearance was beginning to dissipate, making her look like a miniature version of a fully-grown Caspian tiger. He stroked her soft fur affectionately and allowed her to follow him as he began unpacking.

Why did he care who Selena bedded anyway? It was not as though she belonged to him. She wasn't his wife, or his lover. She used to be his friend but after the brutal way he had treated her, he doubted they were even that.

He was a monster.

He decided the next day, as he sat in his room, two empty bottles of wine and a hookah before him, that he would go to Mazandaran every month for a week until it was completed. That meant another four or five trips. Four or five weeks away from Selena. He wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry.

Instead, he decided to find another bottle. _Better to drown out the sorrow._

His quest was deterred by a timid knock at the door.

"What?" he growled in annoyance, finding a quaking servant on the other side.

"The Khanum has demanded your presence at noon," the servant whimpered, darting off the moment he was dismissed.

Erik growled in annoyance, looking up at his pocket watch. It was eleven. So little time! He stumbled a few times as he walked back into his room. Had it been this difficult to walk before? He could not remember.

He tried to make himself presentable as he racked his brain for ways to make oneself sober. Nothing would surface, his mind far too slow and foggy to skim through the endless realms of knowledge he possessed. Frustrated but confident of his acting abilities, he departed.

As he made his way to the harem he successfully mastered walking without stumbling. He almost felt giddy with pride. He also practiced his entire exchange with the Khanum in his head, doing his best to act like his sober self would. He would successfully trick the Khanum! He was sure of it!

The Khanum smirked as he entered. "My dear magician, are you drunk?"

 _Damnation…_

"You summoned me?" Erik retorted, hoping that continuing with his rehearsed script would be the best course of action.

"Yes," the Khanum responded, still grinning from ear to ear. "Your recent designs for torture chambers have been most… disappointing."

Erik's mind froze to a stop. The Khanum was deviating from the script and improvisation was most definitely not his forte when he was both drunk and high. He resisted the urge to chastise her for exactly that but resisted the temptation.

"Is that so?" It seemed like a simple enough sentence.

"Yes, my son has been threatened, you see. He was shot at by some extremists only three days ago and I need a manner of punishment befitting the crime. Suleiman Khan will be the first as we are certain he was the leader of such a treasonous attack. You have twenty-four hours to return with something more exciting or I may just have to hurt your precious little pet," the Khanum threatened, looking at him through her thick lashes.

That sentence definitely sobered him up. "You shall have it."

He nodded his head and departed, almost running back to his apartments. He most likely would have, had he been able to.

He devised for the rest of the day and well into the night. The next morning, he returned to the Khanum, offering her the new blueprints. She was pleased.

Guilt and dread compelled him to Nadir's apartments. The man had only just returned from Ashraf, and Erik had been avoiding him.

He only had to wait a few seconds for Nadir to answer his knock. "Erik, what a surprise." The older man did not look surprised.

Erik sat heavily upon one of the daroga's chairs, not waiting to be invited in. He explained to Nadir the conversation he had exchanged with the Khanum the previous day.

"And you have satisfied her?" Nadir asked simply at the end of Erik's tale.

Erik shuddered. "I have."

Nadir sat back in his own chair. "What did you create?"

Erik closed his eyes, locking his mind away from emotion. "An octagonal room of mirrors. In the centre of it an iron tree, a noose hanging from one of its branches. Suleiman Khan will be placed inside and burning furnaces under the room will heat it up rather quickly. Sounds of wild animals will then fill the room. Eventually the heat will cause illusions and hallucination and he will have the choice to either hang himself or cook to death. Either way, he will live his last hours in agony."

Nadir looked at him in a dejected manner but said nothing.

"I am weary of death, Nadir," Erik confessed suddenly. "So very weary. Do you have any opium here?"

"You've been indulging in that drug far too much, Erik—"

"Spare me the sermon, Daroga," Erik interrupted. "You're not my father."

Nadir sighed and gave him the precious drug before excusing himself to pray. Erik sat alone with his drug and his thoughts.

Over the next month, thirty executions occurred within his mirrored room of death. Erik refused to attend most killings, choosing instead to hide out in Mazandaran. Therefore, his planned four to five weeks at the construction site turned into nine, only spending a combined week and a half in Tehran.

How he longed to hear Selena speak to him rather than spy on her as she spoke in gentle tones to Ayesha, who purred contently in response. How he longed to take Darius' place and walk with her through the beautiful gardens of Tehran. But he couldn't. he would destroy her.

The day the last stone was placed on the palace was the day Erik sighed in relief. He could leave Persia. He would deposit Selena at her father's doorstep as promised and then return to his nomadic lifestyle. With the fortune he'd accumulated, he could do whatever he wished.

The Shah arrived that day and was immediately escorted to the palace to begin his tour. Every inch of the palace was shown to him, especially the secret passageways that would allow him to spy on the court and though he complained about the stuffiness of the secret hallways, Erik was able to placate him quickly, explaining that the best way to maintain a secret was to make it appear insignificant and uninteresting.

The Shah seemed pleased, though a careful glint of jealousy in his eye concerned Erik. Too satisfied to contemplate the meaning of such an expression, Erik packed his belongings and began his long ride back to Tehran.

Screams made him stop Cesar midstride as he rode towards his destination. In the distance he could hear the cries of the workers as the Shah undoubtedly ordered their execution. It didn't surprise him, though it pained him to imagine Amir's wife raising a child alone. The Shah would not wish to risk his secret passages being known to anyone other than him. Saddened, Erik urged Cesar into a brisk trot. A generous sum of money would surely ensure Amir's wife's comfort.

To say Erik was surprised when he arrived at his apartments would have been an understatement. Both Selena and Ayesha barrelled straight into him, the former enveloping him in a warm hug and the latter licking his hand gently. The eight-month-old animal looked less like a cub and more like an adult. Only a few more months and she would be fully grown.

Selena looked up at him stubbornly. Clearly, she didn't plan on backing down.

"This has gotten far too much out of hand, Erik," she declared, poking his chest for emphasis. "You are killing yourself with guilt. I've been waiting for you to come around, but it's gone on for too long, so I am warning you now that I am not leaving until you talk to me. What did I do wrong?"

Erik choked back a sob at the sound of her beautiful voice, even if she was angry at him. "Nothing, you've done nothing."

"Then why—"

"I can't be near you," Erik confessed. "I'll destroy you, just like Reza and Luciana and Sasha and—"

"Erik," Selena interrupted. "You aren't going to destroy me. Is that honestly why you've been avoiding me for half a year?"

Erik nodded meekly but did not speak. He bowed his head and clasped his hands together in supplication and resisted the urge to grovel.

Selena clasped his hands and led him to the chaise lounge, where they sat down side by side. "Erik, you need to understand that you cannot blame yourself for what happened to Reza. He was dying. Nothing would change that. Life is full of pain and suffering. You made his death one of peace and happiness."

Erik stared at her, overwhelmed and completely in love with the woman before him. Ever so slowly, so as to give her time to retreat, Erik lowered his head, desperate to feel her lips on his. He could feel her rapid breaths mingling with his, her hands clasping his tightly—

Suddenly Nadir barged into the room. "You are under arrest," he declared in a loud voice, "by order of the Shah of Shahs, the Shadow of God—"

"I believe it is considered polite to knock," Erik interrupted, rather annoyed.

"Get everything you need quickly. You too Selena, and give it to me. The Shah wants you dead so he will be the only one with a palace of your making." Nadir whispered.

"Ah, you find me in the middle of a compromising situation," Erik voice loud, so it could be heard by the men undoubtedly waiting outside.

"You will be permitted a few minutes to dress," Nadir replied at the same volume.

The couple rose quickly, and Erik walked directly to the hidden spring in his wall, wherein lay a small niche with a casket inside which he handed to Nadir. Ayesha was quickly sedated at the daroga's request despite Selena's protests. It would not do for her to make a fuss.

The daroga extended his hands to Erik's, a piece of rope held in one hand. Erik stiffened.

"They will expect to see you bound," Nadir explained.

Erik looked at the rope, wholly unwilling to relent. He had been bound one too many times in his life and no good had ever come of it.

"Erik, give me your hands," Nadir quietly pressed, desperate. "It is the only way."

Selena carefully took hold of his hands. "Trust him. You have to."

Erik yielded with a small sigh, watching in terror as the daroga bound his wrists. Every fibre of his being begged him to fight back but Erik pushed it down, concentrating instead on the soft feel of Selena's hands on his.

Nadir pushed Erik and Selena out of the apartments after binding Selena as well and instructed a soldier, who was stationed outside, to pick up the unconscious Ayesha. "Search the apartments." Nadir ordered the men stationed outside.

On the usual patio Orion, Dana and another grey horse stood waiting as well as an escort of guards. The daroga ordered Erik and Selena onto their respective horses and the soldier carrying Ayesha deposited her onto the grey horse, who skittered nervously.

As they rode, Nadir ordered the escorts ahead to notify the prison of Erik's impending arrival. The moment the last horse disappeared in the distance the daroga cut his and Selena's bonds loose and handed him the casket.

"Go. Follow the coastal road and get out of Persia quickly. I can only buy you a few hours," the daroga said.

Erik could only stare at the man, dumbstruck. "How will you explain this?"

Nadir closed his eyes for a second. "You are a magician, so you tricked me with your magic and escaped with your concubine and pet."

"Even if they believe you, you will be punished," Erik persisted, still struggling to comprehend the daroga's selflessness.

"That is for me to worry about," Nadir replied with a shake of his head.

"Why?" was all Erik could ask.

"Reza would want you to live," Nadir explained simply.

Erik bit back tears at the mention of the boy's name. "Will you ever forgive me?"

The way Nadir looked at him made him feel as if he were peering into his very soul. "There is nothing to forgive. I have one condition. Think of your soul now, Erik. As its appointed keeper I give you this ultimatum: no more senseless murder." He then added in Persian. "Be the man Selena needs."

"You expect us to leave you here to die?" Selena spoke up suddenly.

Nadir smiled at her. "I am not oblivious to intrigue. Two bodies will be found tomorrow by the Caspian Sea one dressed in your cloak and mask, the other in clothing similar to what you are wearing. The Shah will most likely be sufficiently pleased to spare my life, should he believe those corpses are yours. I will most likely be exiled but I have nothing left here. I will be fine. Just promise me you will take care of our mutual friend."

Selena nodded though tears still shoe in her eyes. Erik handed the daroga his cloak and mask as well as the casket that Nadir had held only moments before.

"You'll need money," he stated simply.

Nadir opened the casket, finding inside dozens of precious jewels.

"Erik—"

"Just take it, Daroga!" Erik demanded, and Nadir slowly relented, placing the casket into his saddle bag. "Au revoir, my friend," Erik said, suddenly mellow, "and be careful. Your wearisome health has become quite dear to me."

With that Erik grabbed the reins of the horse that carried Ayesha and, turning together with Selena, they rode off, never looking back.

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 **Ok, I usually don't put in end notes but I think it's important to mention that this is officially the end of this part of Selena and Erik's journey. Don't worry. I will continue posting every Monday. Nothing has changed in relation to that :)**

 **Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed part 1 of their journey. Now onto a new dawn, starring both known and unknown characters!**


	23. He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

**Hey guys, I'm really sorry this chapter is a day late. My mum had surgery and my brother got sick, so I've been taking care of them. Anyway, I hope you guys like it :)**

 **Thank you once again to everyone who's been reading with a special shoutout to Tam Lin's rose.**

 **I will now shamelessly beg for reviews because they make me happy.**

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 **CHAPTER 22: HE LOVES ME, HE LOVES ME NOT  
** **Summer 1852, Persian desert – Selena's POV**

Erik had barely spoken a word since their escape, only insisting that they make haste. They rode their horses hard, stopping only at a small village to water their steeds.

She had missed him. She'd barely seen him in the past six months, and the thought that he'd only been avoiding her because he feared her destruction haunted her. What did he even mean? She knew he would never hurt her so how could he ever destroy her?

She looked to Ayesha, who was still unconscious on the horse's back. Her sweet cub had grown so much in such a short time. Soon she would have to be set free, a thought that Selena dreaded. She had developed an almost motherly affection towards the cub and like any mother, she was plagued by the knowledge that one day her child would leave her.

Only when the sun was beginning to set in the horizon did Erik slow down, evidently searching for an appropriate place to set up camp. As they approached the sea, the desert would begin to give way to greenery, allowing for better groves in which to hide. Though they were in an area where the shrubs were still sparse, it was better than sleeping in the open, especially with the Shah's guard chasing them.

"Where exactly are we going?" Selena asked. Though she was curious, she mainly wanted Erik to talk as his silences were often uncomfortable.

"Towards the sea, then west. We will travel on land until we reach the Black Sea and then find a boat that can take us to southern France. From there we will travel north by train and carriage to Calais and ferry across to England." Erik sighed and looked at her for the first time since their departure, his unmasked face glaringly detailed under the waning sun. "It will be a long journey but, as promised, I will get you home, my lady."

"My family may be in Normandy on holiday. Do you think perhaps we could stop there to check?" Selena asked, the sudden thought that Erik might leave after returning her coming to her like an unwelcome nightmare. "It will be on our way to England, so it should only slow us down a day or two at most."

Erik's already pale complexion blanched considerably, and his mouth hung agape for several seconds. "Very well," he finally said, grudgingly.

"Thank you," Selena replied, and let him lapse once again into silence.

Erik suddenly stopped Orion and looked into the distance before turning in that direction an urging his horse to a brisk trot. Selena followed curiously and was pleasantly surprised to find a small cave that was hidden amongst a thicket of bushes, just large enough to conceal the horses inside with them. It took a bit of convincing to convince the horses to enter. The animals did not seem very fond of the idea of a dark cave.

"We camp here," Erik declared and immediately began setting up, laying their bedrolls in a groove of the cave and unsaddling the horses. Selena helped him place Ayesha carefully on one of the bedrolls.

"Shall I search for firewood?" Selena asked, already preparing herself to go but Erik stopped her.

"No, this cave is not nearly ventilated enough. If we try to make a fire, we will be asphyxiated. Besides, the smoke would attract far too much attention."

Selena nodded in understanding and sat down beside Ayesha, stroking her fur thoughtfully. Erik sat on his own bedroll and busied himself with examining what Nadir had provided for them.

"I just remembered," Erik began after a few seconds, taking out some dried meats and bread and handing it to Selena, "we never celebrated your birthday and I must sincerely apologise."

Selena sighed. "I forgot about it too, Erik. It was two days after Reza..."

"After Reza died," Erik supplemented, and Selena nodded. "Still, perhaps we could celebrate it today. We can pretend it is the twenty-third of January once again. It seems like the daroga was even kind enough to provide us with some liquor." Erik stated, removing a large flask from the saddle bag.

Selena laughed and accepted the flask, taking a large gulp before handing it back to Erik, who mimicked her movements.

"You never told me when your birthday is," Selena commented and took another sip of the strong alcohol.

"That is because I do not know, my dear," Erik responded after taking a swig himself and passed it to Selena.

She took it though she did not drink, choosing instead to gaze thoughtfully at the liquid before looking back up at him. "Then it is decided. We shall choose a birthday for you!"

Erik looked at her curiously. "And why should we do that?"

"Because," Selena began, noticing the effects of the alcohol already taking hold, "it is an important date."

"The day my mother gave birth to me is not a day to celebrate but to mourn," Erik retorted, ripping the flask from her hands and taking several gulps.

"Of course it isn't, Erik. It is a marvellous day! The universe would be a very sad place if you weren't in it." Selena exclaimed, taking hold of his hand. "How about the ninth of October?"

Erik looked at her sceptically. "Why that date?"

"Why not?" Selena countered.

Erik stared at her for a long time before his shoulder slumped and he drank from the flask again. "Very well."

"Excellent," Selena giggled, clapping her hands in excitement.

"Today, however, we celebrate your birth," Erik declared, raising the flask. "Happy birthday, my dear. I am sorry that dried meats and stale bread will be your only feast."

Selena smiled warmly. "Thank you, Erik. Your company is more than enough."

Ayesha chose that moment to yawn loudly, finally waking from her slumber. She blinked several times and looked at the tipsy couple before her before slumping back on the bed, no doubt still woozy from the effects of the drug. She would most likely be rather lethargic for a few more hours. Selena snickered and fed her some dried meat and water which she lapped at gratefully.

The drunken fogginess around her mind was beginning to dissipate slightly, leaving her far more in control of her faculties. She did not indulge in alcohol often, and definitely not hard liquor. If her father could see her now…

No, such thoughts would do her no good. Her father was in London or Normandy. There were things he would never need to know, lest her reputation be ruined.

When she was certain Ayesha was tended to, she turned back to Erik, only to find him staring accusingly at the flask. "It's empty," he explained, his voice slurring.

Selena stared at him incredulously. "How? There was still quite a lot left when Ayesha woke up."

Erik tipped the flask and stuck his tongue out under it, disappointed to find that only a drop fell to his eager palate. He then closed the container clumsily and flung it angrily away. "I drank it."

Selena laughed and was met with an angry glare. "It isn't—" a hiccup interrupted his sentence and he clasped his hand over his mouth, blushing, "—funny," he finished quietly.

Selena resisted the urge to giggle once again and took hold of his hand. "Perhaps it is time for you to sleep."

"No," Erik complained, batting away her hand gently. "We are celebrating."

"And we have celebrated," Selena stated, urging him towards the empty bedroll. "We have another long day tomorrow and you need to rest."

"Yes," Erik mumbled, laying his head on her shoulder. "Maybe just a little rest."

"See," Selena said, urging him once again to his bed. "You are tired."

Erik hummed in agreement and let her half-drag him to his corner. When they reached the bedroll, Selena laid him down and before she could think, kissed his bare forehead gently. "Goodnight Erik."

She turned to leave but Erik gripped her hand forcefully, though he never stopped being gentle. She looked up at him and before she could say anything his lips were upon hers, soft and shy. It ended quickly, Selena too shocked to have moved the entire time.

"Erik is sorry," he moaned, stumbling away from her desperately. "He should not have touched. He is very, very sorry."

"Erik," Selena whispered. She could barely see him now, though his eyes shone brightly in the dark cave. She took his face in her hands and kissed him just as gently as he had kissed her. He only froze for a fraction of a second before his passion flared. Gentleness turned to urgency. His hands found her waist and pressed her against him and their lips met again and again, fighting for dominance, a battle or will and love. Every part of her that he touched _burnt_ both her body and soul and she felt as if she had just lit a torch. She did not know whether it would burn forever or burn out but either way, they were now doomed to see it through to the end.

All of Selena's desperation, all of her affection, all of her adoration, it was all poured into that kiss. She caressed his hollow cheeks before moving one hand to the back of his head gripping his hair softly but firmly.

"I… I love you…" Selena managed to gasp between kisses. Erik broke away immediately, though he did not release her waist.

"Do not mock me," he growled, nails digging into her soft flesh, not painfully though the pressure was uncomfortable.

"I'm not mocking you," she retorted. "I love you, Erik, I love you. I would never lie to you about that. I have loved you for quite a while now."

"You love me… you love _me_ ," Erik murmured disbelievingly, letting go of her completely.

Selena smiled and gripped his hands. "Yes Erik, I love you."

"But how? My face… it—"

"Erik," she interrupted. "I admit that you are not handsome but that does not change anything. I love your kindness, your gentleness, your strength. I love the way you shuffle awkwardly whenever you're uncomfortable and your childish scribbles. I love your music, your art, your blueprints, your talent… Two years ago, I would've been far too vain and naïve to love you but now, now I've grown Erik. I am no longer a sheltered child. I have seen death and suffering and in the middle of all that you have shone like a beacon of light. You have protected me, comforted me, cared for me. You didn't have to do it but you did and I love you for it. And… and the face that did all that was your face and I love it for it."

"God… oh God… I love you too." Erik declared, enveloping her tightly in his embrace.

"I know," Selena replied before she could stop herself.

"How do you know?" Erik asked, looking at her curiously as he pulled away.

Selena could feel her cheeks heating up with shame. "When… when I thought you were dying after you were poisoned, I was tidying up your things and I may have found your journals and looked in…"

Erik's eyes lit up like twin flames and he growled in frustration. "You prying Pandora! Couldn't resist the mystery of the box, could you? You had to look inside! You women and your curiosity will be the death of us all!"

"I didn't know they were your journals. I thought they were just sketches or music. I just never thought of you as the type to have journals," Selena said meekly, hiding her face in her hands. "If I had known I wouldn't have looked. I swear it!"

Only his eyes were visible now, and they continued to shine. She could not tell what he was thinking but he stared at her with such burning intensity that she felt as if she were as naked as the day of her birth, with all her sins laid bare before his impenetrable gaze.

"Besides," she continued, trying desperately to fill the silence that weighed heavily in the air. "If I hadn't read the journals I would never have confessed my own feelings to myself. I would most likely still be running form my love like a coward."

Erik gaze continued to bore into her before he looked down with a sigh. "I suppose you have a point but never look at them again."

"Never," Selena promised, placing her palm over her heart before returning to Erik's embrace.

They sat, their bodies entangled, holding each other closely, neither saying a word. Erik's head rested atop hers as her own laid against his chest. She could hear the drum of his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt, beating furiously and giving away his own excitement and nerves. As time passed, however, it gradually slowed down and Selena was amused to feel him stifle a yawn.

"I think perhaps it is time to retire," she commented, unable to hide the laughter in her voice.

"Perhaps we should," he agreed, releasing her before looking towards her bed. Selena was aware that his eyesight was far superior to anyone she had ever met but she often wondered how much he could truly see. "It appears that our mischievous little tigress has seen fit to occupy your entire bed. I'll go wake her."

Erik tried to stand but Selena grabbed his arm. "No, let her rest. I'm sure I can find a corner for myself."

"Do you truly believe I would allow you to sleep on the ground? Take my bedroll if you insist on letting Ayesha sleep." Erik argued, pointing to his bed.

"And do you truly believe I would allow _you_ to sleep on the ground?" Selena retorted, crossing her arms stubbornly.

Erik smirked. "Then it appears we have reached an impasse, my dear."

"Perhaps…" Selena swallowed the nerves that appeared as a solution occurred to her, a solution so inappropriate and disreputable she could easily imagine her mother swooning should she ever hear that her own daughter had even made such a suggestion. "Perhaps we could share a bedroll. It might be large enough for both of us if… if we remain close together."

Erik stared at her incredulously for many moments making Selena feel more embarrassed by the second at her scandalous proposition. "Are you certain—"

"Yes," Selena interrupted, her face burning with the intensity of her blush. "You have seen me half naked anyway, on the night I met you. We were in a far more compromising position then."

"I never looked down, I swear it," Erik stuttered out and Selena imagined he was blushing too.

"I know," Selena reassured, grabbing hold of his arm, "and I thank you for it. I suppose that with us propriety has never existed."

"I suppose…" Erik echoed uncertainly. "If you change your mind—"

"Erik," Selena sighed, "I will not change my mind."

Gently, he grabbed Selena's hand gently and led her to the bed. He first tried to lay down above the blankets, but Selena immediately protested, insisting that he would catch his death in the chilly air. Erik laid beside her as stiff as a board trying his best to remain as far from Selena as possible. Selena however, snuggled up against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his torso, surprised to feel him stiffen even more. Slowly and with much encouragement, she managed to convince him to reciprocate her embrace. Once they were both comfortable, she kissed his cheek.

"I love you," she mumbled and was happy to hear him mutter it back.


	24. Luciana

**I am so, so, so sorry for my late updates! I've been on holiday and rarely ever have access to the internet. I'll be away until the end of December and then weekly updates should resume until the beginning of February since I need to go visit my grandparents.**

 **Anyway please leave reviews :) They make me very happy and a lot more willing to write.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 23: LUCIANA  
** **Summer 1852, Persian coast – Erik's POV**

He woke up due to the familiar tickle of whiskers. He opened his eyes only for a second before the light forced them shut once again, letting out a groan at the headache that pounded incessantly at his skull.

Ayesha continued to stubbornly nuzzle his face. It was not unusual for her to rouse him when she was bored or hungry but that morning it was an unwelcome awakening. Perhaps he should not have drunk quite as much.

"Let me be, you darned animal," he groaned pushing Ayesha off his face. The movement caused him to dislodge an object from his shoulder. A very live object given the startled yelp it emitted at the unwelcome jostle. _Selena._

Memories flooded back; they had talked, they had kissed, she said she loved him… She loved him! Now they were in the same bed. Had they? No. They were still very much clothed. Then why sleep in the same bed? _Ayesha._ That was it! She had—

"Erik are you alright?" His thoughts were interrupted by Selena's voice which sounded amused though he could sense the muted concern. Was it just him or did she sound exceptionally loud and grating?

Erik tried to respond but his tongue felt like lead, and all that came out was a muffled grunt.

He felt her head leave his shoulder and she sat up. "Erik, please tell me what's wrong?" She no longer sounded amused.

"Water," he managed to gasp, trying his best to ignore the throbbing of his head.

He felt her stand and return again shortly after, kneeling at his side. "You have to open your eyes, love."

Her term of endearment was woefully overshadowed by the regrets that followed his drinking during the previous night. Instead, he shook his head petulantly, lamenting it immediately as his brain rattled in his skull.

"Well then at least lift your head so I can help you drink," she suggested and without waiting for his response placed her hand under his head and lifted it gently. The world spun under his closed eyelids as he was positioned on her shoulder whereupon he slumped immediately, opening his lips slightly, waiting for water. He felt the flask being placed on his lips and drank the blessed water hungrily. When he finished, he let out a happy sigh and snuggled back into Selena's shoulder.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, Erik," Selena said, making him cringe.

"Shhh," he chastised, bringing his index finger to cover her lips. "Don't speak so loudly, it hurts my head. As for what's wrong… I may have partaken in slightly too much liquor last night."

Selena let out a small him of understanding and wrapped her arms around his body, pressing him closer to him. He smiled through the pain and concentrated on the gentle throb of her heartbeat, then on the feel of her soft skin. Eventually, she began humming quietly, allowing him to focus on the vibrations of her chest and the notes that filled the air. As she rocked his hangover away, he felt truly loved.

It was with that thought that he began to sob. Selena stopped her humming immediately and tried to pry herself away so she could look at his, but Erik continued to hold onto her stubbornly.

"What's wrong, my love?" She asked, raking her hand through his hair. Erik only cried harder, holding onto her like a lifeboat. In a way, he supposed she was the only thing keeping her from drowning.

"You love me," he replied between whimpers. "You love me."

Selena sighed and returned his hug fiercely. "I love you."

"No one has ever loved me," he confessed after his cries abated.

"Oh Erik," she sighed, holding him closer. "Tell me about your parents."

Erik froze as the words left her mouth. He had spent years trying to forget his mother only to have the memories ripped back to the forefront of his mind by an innocent question. "What is there to say about Erik's poor mother?"

"Anything," Selena urged.

Erik shuddered. "She was beautiful and cruel. I cannot blame her, though. My father died only weeks before I was born. She was left only with the thought of her unborn child; it gave her hope and kept her grief at bay. Then she gave birth to a monster."

"Don't call yourself that," Selena chastised. "You're not a monster."

"But Erik is a monster," he protested weakly. "He destroys everything he touches. He ruined his mother's life, he ruined Nadir's life, he ruined—"

"You didn't ruin anyone's life! You did not choose to be born and you were not responsible for Reza's illness. You must stop blaming yourself for things outside your control!"

"He ruined Giovanni's life," Erik continued quietly, ignoring Selena's interruption.

Selena resisted the urge to groan. "And how did you ruin Giovanni's life, pray tell?"

"He killed his daughter."

Erik's heart dropped, knowing his fate was sealed with those words. Selena's body turned to rock and her heart hammered under her breast. Erik sighed. He'd lost her. He was expecting it, he supposed. There was no way she could ever forgive him for Luciana's death. No one could ever forgive him for that. He held his breath, waiting for Selena to push him away in disgust, to cry, to scream at him; anything. Instead, she continued to hold him, one hand around his shoulders and the other around his head. How he wished she would do _something_!

"Tell me about them."

It was all she said and then she resumed gently stroking his hair. How infuriatingly confusing women were.

"He was a mason," Erik began, refusing to look at Selena. "I met him many years ago when I was travelling through Italy. He offered to let me live with him and in return, I would help him with his work. He was a good man and treated me kindly. His daughter, however, was a spoilt girl. Her name was Luciana. She insisted I show her my face, but I refused, so she complained to her father. Giovanni could deny his children nothing and insisted and I couldn't deny the man anything. She… she was so scared… the stonework was crumbling, and she fell. He was kind to me and I killed his child."

"Surely you cannot blame yourself," Selena said after a long while.

Erik finally looked up at her, finding her calm demeanour both surprising and unnerving. "Of course I do. If I had told them no for once in my life."

Selena only sighed and forced his head back onto the shoulder, recommencing her gentle rocking. "I don't blame you, Erik."

Erik wept once more. He felt pathetic, crying like a child but he needed it. All emotion that he had repressed for years was released as Selena held him, ever so loving and kind.

"You've grown, my dear," he murmured, dislodging himself from her arms.

"I know," she replied. "I know now how very condescending and naïve I used to be. I still am, I suppose, but I'd like to think that I've gotten better. I'm glad to know that some good came out of this horrible adventure."

Erik hummed in acknowledgement but did not reply. "I think I'm better now. We should leave. The sooner we reach the sea, the sooner we can leave Persia behind us."

They stood together only to be accosted by a very annoyed and hungry tigress. Ayesha eyed them through lidded eyes before passive-aggressively moving to their food packs and beginning her desperate search for nourishment which startled the horses. While Erik calmed the frightened beasts, Selena made her way to Ayesha and helped her find a meal, which Ayesha ate ravenously.

"If we are to feed this animal we should teach her to hunt at least," Erik said pensively from his spot next to the horses.

Selena turned her head to face him, her face contorted into a sad frown. "Must she? She's still so young."

"She's almost nine months old, my dear," Erik retorted, approaching the cub and giving her a gentle pat. "She should have learnt the basics of hunting already. What are you so afraid of?"

"The sooner she learns to hunt, the sooner she has to leave us. I don't want her to," Selena confessed, tears brimming her eyes.

Erik sighed and pulled Selena up to a standing position. He gingerly cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to stare at him. "She still has at least a year left with us, my love but we must let her go eventually. It would be unfair to her if we didn't."

"I know," Selena whispered, leaning into his hands for comfort.

"Come," he said, urging her towards the horses. "We really must depart."

They rode for most of the day. Ayesha insisted on trotting beside the horses. Occasionally she would wander off into the dunes and bushland, causing Selena to call out to her nervously. Several times Erik had to explain to her that it was normal for cubs to explore and that Ayesha was nearby. He was right. Ayesha always returned soon after and resumed her spot alongside the horses. After a few of the tigress' vanishings, they were surprised to find her holding a dead animal in her jaws when she arrived. It was a young doe which Ayesha deposited proudly at their feet. The pair looked between the live and the dead animal for many seconds before moving their gaze up two each other.

"Well," Erik said, not even trying to hide his surprise. "I think our little tigress is a naturally gifted hunter."

Selena nodded her head in agreement. "What do we do with it now?"

"I'll put it on the horse. I can skin it later, and perhaps we'll dry some of the meat. I do think the majority should be for Ayesha though. It is, after all, her first successful kill."

Erik dragged the carcass onto their packhorse, and they promptly continued. Ayesha remained by their side after that, desperate to protect her meal from other hungry predators.

They rode in comfortable silence after that. The arid desert began to wane, making way for the lush greenery that thrived near the sea. With the promise of good land and cooler temperatures, the number of villages would begin to increase steadily. As the sun commenced its steady pace to the horizon, Erik resisted the urge to let out a cheerful shout. "We made good time today. We will sleep under a roof tonight."

Selena let out a beaming smile and clapped her hands as she noticed the small plumes of smoke rising in the distance.

The quaint village could not have housed many people, but it still had a small inn for weary travellers. Erik searched through their belongings, swearing in a very ungentlemanly manner several times before letting out a relieved sigh. He found a hooded cloak; not particularly elegant but it would hide his face from sight. Putting it on, he led the horses to the inn. It took much convincing and a large pouch of coins before the innkeeper warily allowed Ayesha inside.

"Two bedrooms, please," Erik demanded as the trembling innkeeper jumped when Ayesha approached him curiously.

"Two, sir?" the innkeeper questioned incredulously. "Are you not married?"

Erik's thoughts skidded to a stop. To deny their marital status would undoubtedly raise questions regarding their relationship and Selena's reputation would be ruined. And yet… how could he begin to explain to her—

"Erik, what's the matter?"

His head turned, and he looked into Selena's concerned eyes. She stared back, steadily and comfortingly, searching his own face for answers.

"It appears we must pose as spouses. Would that bother you?" Erik explained, wringing his hands together nervously.

"Well, it would certainly arouse less suspicion…" Selena agreed. "Spouses we shall be!"

He turned back to the innkeeper, who was subtly inching away from Ayesha, who was trying to sniff his coat. A swift word from Selena and the curious cub returned to her mistress' side.

"One room then," Erik said, and the innkeeper immediately handed him the keys, and after quickly directing them to their rooms, scurried away.

They stood in their room, staring awkwardly at each other. For the life of him, Erik could not think of anything to say. Luckily for him, Selena decided to take the lead, grabbing his hand and urging him to the bed. She gently removed his cloak and coat and Erik could do nothing stand there, complacent and frozen, both touched and – much to his humiliation – aroused at her bold and intimate gestures. Once he was stripped to only his shirt and trousers she forced him under the covers and proceeded to slither in herself after discarding her own outer garments.

She shuffled in the bed until she was comfortably situated on his shoulder and promptly fell asleep without a word. Erik, on the other hand, found that sleep eluded him and instead contented himself with the comfort of being loved.


	25. Lord Alfred Windermere

**Hey everyone, I actually managed to finish this chapter! Finally! Its quite different from my original plan but it just came to me and I went with it. I mean, it is now my second longest chapter so I guess it wasn't a bad thing. A lot of the planned content for this chapter has been moved to the next one since it would just end up wayyyy too long if I didn't.**

 **The main antagonist of this chapter may seem insignificant for now but he'll become more important later on so don't forget him.**

 **Shoutout to Tam Lin's rose and jhsbradford. You guys are amazing!**

 **As always please leave a review :)**

 **I wish you all a Merry Christmas. If you don't celebrate it then I hope you have a great holiday!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 24: LORD ALFRED WINDERMERE  
** **Summer 1852, Black and Mediterranean Sea – Selena's POV**

Selena had woken up the next morning mortified. To sleep together on a bedroll was one thing but in an actual bed!? And she'd undressed him, too! But it had felt so right, to rest her head on his chest as they slept peacefully.

Oh, what would her parents think? They had never shared a room throughout their entire married life and yet their daughter was doing just that with a man who had shown no intention of marrying her.

 _Would_ he want to marry her? Selena had no doubt that if he asked she would accept without a single moment of hesitation but what about him? She was certain he was truthful in his affections but how far did they extend? Erik was a reserved man with little need of companionship. He was certainly a man that she would expect to remain a bachelor for many years yet.

He had seemed rather willing to act as her husband, insisting that they address each other as such until they found her parents but perhaps it was just that – an act. Erik was rather fond of mischief and trickery after all.

So many questions and no answers. It was no use to dwell on them all. For now she would content herself with being his faux-wife.

"My dear wife," Erik exclaimed from his place ahead of her, snapping her out of her troubled thoughts. "We have reached the Black Sea."

Five days. Five whole days since they had departed the small inn and Selena still found herself plagued by doubt and longing.

"Is something the matter, dear," Erik said, concerned with her lack of excitement.

"No," Selena replied, "I suppose I'm just tired."

If he sensed her lie he did not let it show. "That is understandable. I shall find you the best room money can buy on the most luxurious ship available. That I can promise you!"

"Thank you," Selena murmured gratefully.

Though Erik had managed to fashion a rather crude mask out of fabric and leather that they had managed to obtain at a market in a village – much to Selena's disappointment – she could still sense the excitement radiating from Erik's every pore. Once they reached the Black Sea, they would be safe from the Khanum's clutches.

Ayesha bounded up to them, most likely also sensing their enthusiasm. The cub had been happy as can be since her first kill, despite her many unsuccessful hunts after that. Only once more had she managed a kill and it had been an old little hare which Erik and Selena let her have for herself. There wasn't enough of it for the three of them anyway and Ayesha needed her sustenance more than them. The deer that the tigress had caught had long since been eaten. They had had to eat it quickly as that amount of food would likely attract large predators which they had no ability to fend off.

Erik enquired to many local fishermen in a language she did not understand before gaining a pleasing answer from an old withered man.

"A passenger ship is due to arrive at noon. It will take us to France," Erik explained to Selena. "In the meantime, I will try to get us some tickets."

Erik led them to a nearby house where a small man sat behind a desk, scribbling away. He and Erik began speaking quickly, the former with undeserved confidence and the latter with annoyance. Only after a large bribe was placed on the desk did the small man see fit to provide them with tickets.

"It appears that travelling with a tiger is rather difficult," Erik grumbled in annoyance.

"But you managed," Selena offered, trying to cheer him up.

"Of course I did," Erik exclaimed, affronted. "There is nothing a cannot 'manage' if I am sufficiently determined… except writing. I shall never master writing,"

Selena looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"My handwriting is abhorrent," Erik said sheepishly.

Selena laughed. "Well if that was my only weakness I would not be terribly sad."

"I suppose you make a fair point," Erik conceded, offering the crook of his arm to her. "While we wait, we shall have to find you some western clothing. If you were to arrive in France dressed as a Persian concubine we would be the greatest scandal in the town… nay, the country."

Selena laughed but agreed and they spent the next few hours finding her a new wardrobe.

After Erik purchased her fifth dress she began to feel guilty. "Erik, there is no need to buy me so many dresses. Just one of two would do."

Erik looked at her incredulously. "Absolutely not! You shall have a wardrobe befitting a lady."

"It's too much," Selena tried to explain. "You have no reason to spend so much money on me."

"No reason? I love you. That is reason enough." Erik stated and began inspecting two new evening dresses. "Turquoise or sky blue?"

"Sky blue," Selena replied instinctively. "Wait no, neither—"

"Neither?" Erik interrupted. "Very well. How about a lavender?"

"What I mean is that I don't want another dress," Selena exclaimed, exasperated.

"Yes," Erik muttered thoughtfully, "perhaps we have been looking at dresses for too long. How about some jewellery? We can return to the dresses later."

"Erik, you aren't listening to me! I cannot allow you to spend so much of your money on me!"

Erik sighed. "I have amassed a fortune over the years. I have more than enough to buy you a new wardrobe a hundred times over. I have spent years spoiling myself with riches and felt nothing but hollow misery and loneliness. Now I can spend it on you! I'm not alone anymore. My money has a purpose now, Selena. Let me fulfil it."

Erik was grasping her hands desperately, his eyes pleading. Selena removed one of her hands from his and cupped his masked face, smiling. "Just promise you'll buy some things for yourself as well."

Erik beamed and nodded his head feverishly. "You have yourself a deal, my dear."

"Then I prefer the sky blue," Selena said, and Erik laughed, turning back to the dresses he had been examining so thoroughly.

By the time their ship arrived they had managed to buy each a new wardrobe and Ayesha a shiny collar. Though Erik had been against such a display of ownership, Selena had reminded him that it was just like a necklace. Erik, unwilling to argue with her, had bought the item. Ayesha was rather amused by her new toy and kept shaking her head just to hear the diamond pendant jingle against the metal that attached it to the collar.

There were only a handful on individuals boarding the ship since the town they were in wasn't the most popular of tourist destinations. The only reason they the ship was stopping there at all was to replenish their food stocks. Their horses were handed to a young crew member, who promised to keep the horses well-fed and healthy.

Another few crew members took their trunks and led them to their rooms. Selena was surprised to find that they were being directed to first class. Her shock only grew when they entered the rooms. There was a small parlour, a fully furnished bathroom and a bedroom; all lavishly decorated for the richest of nobles. The crew bowed and departed silently after depositing their bags with a final wary glance at Erik, carefully sidestepping Ayesha.

"Erik, this is amazing! I never expected such luxury here!"

Erik smiled. "Apparently it was once a transatlantic passenger ship but has since been replaced by newer models. It's still in good condition, however, so they now use it to travel around Europe."

Selena looked at him curiously. "When did you have time to learn this?"

Erik gave her a furtive glance. "There were some rather inquisitive Russians, who I just happened to overhear, questioning a crew member when we were boarding. Now, shall we make ourselves comfortable?"

Selena nodded in agreement and they began the tedious process of unpacking their things. Once they finished, Erik declared that he had to make a more presentable mask and would therefore be unavailable for a few hours. He apologised profusely but Selena didn't mind. She kissed his cheek and left the room to explore the ship with Ayesha, leaving a very red Erik in the parlour.

The ship was indeed luxurious. The dining room was splendid and a quick glance at the menu assured her that the food would not disappoint either. As she made her way to a communal drawing room she encountered a young woman who could be no older than herself, walking with an older gentleman. At the sight of Ayesha, the woman led out a strangled scream and swooned, collapsing on the gentleman who did his best to catch the unconscious girl. To add to the gravity of the situation, Ayesha decided to go investigate the cause of the couple's distress, approaching them unabashedly. The lady, who was by then regaining consciousness was met immediately with the face of a very curious tiger while the gentleman tried his best to bat the large cat away with trembling hands.

Selena finally managed to jump into action, calling Ayesha to her. The loyal tigress returned immediately, though not without one last look at the couple.

"I am very sorry if she caused distress. She means no harm. Is there anything I can do for you?" Selena asked, approaching the couple.

"How on earth were you allowed to bring that creature into this ship?" the man exclaimed, his accent clearly English, helping the young woman to her feet.

"Ayesha is family," Selena retorted, bringing a hand to rest on the tigress' flank.

"Well then I shall see to it that your… family is thrown overboard at the earliest convenience." With that the gentleman turned on his heel with his young associate in tow and they both disappeared around a corner.

With her nerves frayed and her curious nature abated, Selena turned back, deciding that their rooms were far safer.

When she arrived, Erik was fully absorbed in his work and took no notice of her. Physically and emotionally drained after days of travel, she decided to retire for a few hours. Once again, she was met with a single bed in the centre of the bedroom. She sighed as she lay down, guiltily admitting to herself that she was rather pleased that she would sleep with Erik once again. She had grown accustomed to his lean body against hers and would be rather sad to part with it.

Scandalous thoughts played in her mind's eye despite her many attempts to abate them. She fantasised about their wedding night. What kind of lover would he be? Attentive for sure. Erik was attentive and pedantic in all matters, after all. She wondered how many other women had graced his bed and was surprised by the jealously that rose in her chest. She thought of that night at the inn, when she had undressed him. What if she'd gone all the way? Would he have let her? Would he have—

"Are you alright, my dear? You came back rather quickly, and you're flushed. Are you feeling unwell?" Erik's concern was endearing, and she was glad he had not seen straight through her, into her indecent contemplations.

It was for the best that she not dream any more. There would most likely be no wedding anyway.

"I am alright. I just had a rather nasty encounter with a fellow passenger and thought it prudent to return," Selena assured Erik. Despite this, he still pressed his cool hand against her forehead, smiling slightly to find her at a normal temperature.

He sat on the edge of the bed and eyed her carefully. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

"Ayesha startled a young woman, causing her to swoon and her companion took offence. He threatened to have Ayesha thrown overboard," Selena explained, the thought of losing her little tigress finally processing fully in her mind.

Despite the threat, Erik laughed. "I'd like to see anyone courageous enough to take Ayesha on."

"It isn't funny," Selena said, slapping his arm playfully, only causing Erik to laugh more loudly.

"Don't worry, my love. No one will be displacing a hair on Ayesha's head as long as I draw breath," Erik assured her. "Now, how about you rest while I finish my mask. When you awake we shall go to dinner."

"As husband and wife," Selena quipped jokingly.

"Yes, husband and wife," Erik murmured lovingly. "That reminds me. I have a gift." He left the room, returning soon after with a small jewellery box. Opening it for her, she was met with a beautiful gold band. Inside the word 'forever' was inscribed in a beautiful calligraphy. "We should keep up appearances, no?"

He showed her his left hand and she was surprised to find an identical ring gracing his own finger. He removed it for her to inspect and she was happy to find the word 'always' inscribed in his.

Smiling, she held out her hand and he gently placed the ring on her finger and then kissed her hand reverently. "Thank you," he muttered into her palm.

"When did you have time to do this?" She asked curiously.

"They didn't belong to me. They were Giovanni's and his wife's. He was so fond of them that he insisted on having his own wedding band as well. He gave them to me and told me that they would one day be of great use to me. I didn't believe him, but I've been proven wrong." Erik chuckled to himself. "He's always right."

"They're beautiful," she said, staring at her left hand.

Erik crooned in agreement. "Does it fit you properly? We can have it altered when we reach Paris if you wish. Mine needs to. I was born with abnormally long and thin fingers."

"Well I like your abnormally long fingers," Selena said, kissing his cheek.

Erik smiled. "Rest now. I will wake you before dinner."

Selena yawned and sighed contentedly, falling quickly into a deep sleep.

She dreamt of pleasant things though she did not remember exactly what when she felt Erik's cool hand stroking her face. She opened her eyes, finding him leaning over her, his face covered by his new black, leather mask.

"Good morning, my love," she said habitually.

"Good evening," he corrected, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

As she woke up fully, she remembered his promise of dinner. "Oh yes! Dinner! I shall go get ready."

Erik nodded and departed, leaving Selena to ready herself. She chose the sky-blue evening gown that Erik was so fond of but did not get very far in dressing before she remembered that it was impossible to tie the laces of her corset or her dress without assistance. Blushing profusely, she stuck her head out the door and called to Erik, who appeared immediately.

"Is something amiss, my dear," he asked, concerned by her flushed face.

Selena hung her head in shame. "I cannot dress without assistance."

"Oh," he stated, shocked. "Would you… would you be amiable to my assistance until we find a suitable maid?"

Selena nodded and allowed him into the room. He acted swiftly, lacing up her corset with practiced ease, only serving to further her assumptions that he must have had many lovers in the past. She was shocked, however, to find him leaving the corset surprisingly loose.

"Can you do it up a bit tighter?" she asked.

"No," he responded simply, turning to pick up her dress.

"Why not?" she asked indignantly.

"Because I value the health of your organs, my dear. The corset is snug already; it need not strangle you," Erik retorted, placing the dress over her head.

Selena could find no argument to use against him so said nothing. It was true that the corset was tight enough and it was the first time she had worn one in years and could breathe properly at the same time. Perhaps the fashion trend was becoming a bit unhealthy.

After he finished dressing her, he extended his arm. "Madame?"

"Monsieur?" she replied, giggling like a lovesick girl, which she supposed she was.

Outside the bedroom, Ayesha sat waiting impatiently. "We're taking her?" Selena asked nervously.

"Of course. She needs to eat, too," Erik replied, opening the door.

"But what about the gentleman?" Selena continued nervously.

Erik snorted. "The gentleman can mind his own business if he knows what's good for him."

They walked to the dining area in comfortable silence, finding no need for idle talk.

When they arrived, the dining room was already almost full though a few tables were still empty. Selena craned her neck discreetly, searching the crowd for the familiar face of the gentleman she had seen earlier in the day. He was not hard to spot, sitting next to a window, laughing at some joke his companion had just made. She was the same woman who had fainted earlier at the sight of Ayesha.

The whole room stopped and stared as a young noblewoman, a masked man and a tiger made their way to another table next to the window. Selena felt uncomfortable by their gaze, but Erik seemed unperturbed. She supposed he was used to people staring and the thought made her incredibly sad.

They did not have to wait long until a waiter came and took their order, promising to bring Ayesha a large leg of beef. Once the waiter left the gentleman, who had not stopped staring at them since they had arrived, stood and marched purposefully in their direction, his female companion following behind while nervously eyeing Ayesha.

"I thought I asked you to keep that creature away," the man said, glaring pointedly at Ayesha who stared back just as intensely.

"No, you threatened her. I would not advise you to do such again, lest there be… consequences," Erik replied, not even dignifying the man with a glance.

"And you are?" the man asked.

"Lord Erik Destler," Erik said bowing his head. "I believe you have met my wife, Lady Selena Destler."

"I want the beast gone."

"Well then your desires will remain unsatisfied," Erik responded, inspecting the drinks menu once again. "My dear, I do think we should order some of this ruby port after dinner. It comes straight from the Douro valley in Portugal."

Selena was shocked by how disinterested Erik was in the man. It created a humorous dynamic, however, with the angry gentleman desperately trying to gain his full attention.

"I am Lord Alfred Windermere and I demand to be treated with the respect that I am due!"

Erik closed the menu and finally raised his eyes to glare at the man. "I could not care less if you were the emperor of China. Leave us be."

The man, fuming and running out of demands grew desperate. "How could such a ravishing young woman accept to marry a freak?"

Selena saw Erik flinch and opened her mouth to defend him but before she could Erik stood. She could sense the entire room holding their breath, curious as to where the argument would take them.

"And I fail to comprehend how you would deem it acceptable to marry someone who could easily be the age of your daughter, if not your granddaughter. Have you no shame?" Erik's voice was calm, controlled which made him far more threatening than if he were angry.

Lord Windermere's large face grew red with rage and his mouth gaped, searching for an answer. Finally, the head waiter decided to intervene.

"Is something the matter?" he asked ceremoniously.

Erik glared at the man. "Lord Windermere has taken great offence to our tigress, it would appear."

"My Lord," the waiter began, addressing Lord Windermere. "Lord Destler has paid handsomely for the animal to be allowed on the boat and has assured us that no harm will come to anyone on board. He has every right to keep it here."

Lord Alfred nodded his head in acknowledgement and stormed back to his table, his shy wife following behind.

"Destler? I did not know that was your surname." Selena asked once the man was gone.

Erik shrugged. "It isn't. I was never granted the honour of knowing my own, so I invented one for myself."

Selena extended her hand across the table to clasp his own. "Well, I like it."

At that moment, the waiter arrived with first course, depositing the two plates of soup in front of them and another waiter arrived soon after with Ayesha's food which she ate ravenously.

As they ate, Erik intrigued her with beautiful stories of his travels to strange and distant lands.

"I would like to travel more one day," Selena confessed. "I'd like to see Russia, India and Indonesia… Oh, it sounds amazing."

Yes, the rest of the meal was indeed pleasant.

They returned to their rooms, full and pleased. Ayesha immediately jumped onto a settee and fell fast asleep. Selena made her way to their room and Erik followed behind timidly, stopping at the threshold.

"Would Erik…" He hesitated, shuffling nervously. "Would Erik be allowed to sleep with you? He will not touch, he promises."

Selena smiled at him. "Of course, my love. Come." She urged him into the bathroom, throwing his newly bought nightwear in after him. "Change and then we'll sleep."

Only when he had closed the door did Selena remember that she would need his help to remove her clothing. She was forced to stare at the door and wait desperately for Erik to return to her. To his credit, he did not take long though he seemed surprised to find her fully clothed.

When she turned her back to him wordlessly he understood and he set about undoing her dress as deftly as he had dressed her. It felt much more intimate this time, perhaps because of the late hour, perhaps because he was undressing her, perhaps a mixture of both. She did not know, but she couldn't help but hold her breath until he finished, leaving her only in her shift. She quickly grabbed her nightgown and robe and dressed quickly in the bathroom, returning to find Erik sitting nervously on the edge of the bed.

They didn't speak as they snuggled under the covers. Only once they were surrounded by darkness did Selena dare to speak, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Have you had many lovers?" She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

Erik froze. "None, no one would wish to bed a freak. What brought this on?"

"Stop calling yourself a freak, Erik," Selena exclaimed in exasperation, kissing him passionately. "You're not a freak, do you understand?"

Erik nodded slowly. "You didn't answer my question."

Selena felt her cheeks heating up. "Well… you're very good at dressing and undressing me so surely you must have practice."

Erik chuckled, pecking her cheek. "I have only read books on the subject of fashion, my dear. Now why would that bother you so? Are you jealous?"

Selena's face became even redder with mortification. "No…"

"You are." Erik didn't sound mocking, merely intrigued and perhaps even moved.

"Perhaps I am," she admitted.

Erik held her more closely. "Well, I can promise you that I will never touch another woman so long as you will have me."

"I'll always want you by my side, Erik. I love you," Selena confessed, feeling no shame or embarrassment in her statement. Only certainty.

"And I love you," Erik replied. "I have never wished for anyone else by my side. If I had to walk to the ends of the world and back to find you, I would do it without a second of hesitation.

Soon after they both drifted off into a peaceful slumber.


	26. Giovanni

**I am very sorry that this chapter took longer to post than predicted but better late that never, right?**

 **I hope everyone had a great New Years and you have an even better 2019!**

 **I will now shamelessly beg for reviews because I have no dignity. I really like to know what you guys think of what I'm writing.**

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 **CHAPTER 25: GIOVANNI  
** **Summer 1852, Rome – Erik's POV**

Erik's days on the ship were much like what he'd imagine Elysium to be. He was loved, he was free… of course there were the stares from fellow passengers and crewmembers, but one can't have everything, he supposed.

In any case, his beloved Selena more than made up for any heartache gawking could cause. She shone like a beacon from wherever she stood, urging him home.

Though he could scarcely believe it, he had no doubt she loved him, for it would be impossible to fake such a deep sentiment even if she were the greatest actress known to man. And Lord knew that Selena was no actress. Though her skills were in fact adequate enough to fool the Khanum once, he knew that her heart was far too good and pure to allow dishonesty to permeate for long.

They were presently enjoying the view of the Grecian Islands from the ship's deck as they rose and fell in the horizon. They had been forced to leave Ayesha in their rooms, unwilling to be disturbed by the likes of Lord Windermere once again. Selena stood at the edge, holding the rail and occasionally commenting on anything that caught her eye. Erik preferred the view of her glistening eyes to that of the ancient isles and barely took notice of anything of which she spoke.

She turned to speak to him but was immediately distracted by some very amusing event that was occurring just behind his right shoulder if the giggle that escaped her pretty lips was anything to go by.

"And what is so amusing, little one?"

"Little one?" she exclaimed indignantly. "I am only a year younger than you. Hardly any cause for celebration, I should think."

Erik chuckled. "You mistake me, my dear. 'Little one' is not a comment on your age but rather on your stature."

Selena glared at him. "Are you insinuating that I am short?"

"You _are_ rather below average," he conceded. "But do not fret. I would not have you any other way."

Selena sniffed with annoyance. "I do not like that nickname."

"Then I shall not use it again," Erik said with a dramatic bow that resulted in a small smile spreading across Selena's face. "Now, will you tell your poor Erik what caused you so much amusement?"

A mischievous smile crept upon her face. "It appears a seagull took a liking to Lord Windermere's sandwiches."

Erik turned his head to look at Lord Windermere, who was speaking in harsh tones to a servant, then turned back, placing a hand over his heart, his face contorting into one of false-betrayal. "You saw Lord Windermere's luncheon being devoured by a hungry seagull and did not think to allow me the pleasure of such a sight?"

Selena laughed but did not reply. Together they watched as the man continued to verbally assault the poor man until he finally stormed off in a frenzy, his poor, young wife following hastily.

"Father would never allow me to marry a man as crass as him," Selena commented distastefully.

Erik hummed in recognition, but the sudden thought of marriage took over his thoughts before he was able to formulate a suitable reply. If they were to remain a couple then they would need to marry but why would she ever agree to marry a man with no family or connections and with the face of a devil? Moreover, her parents would they be mad if they agreed to such a union.

She'd hate him if he were to bed her, to take what should be taken by a beautiful gentleman of good standing. A man worthy of the daughter of an earl.

But she had allowed him to undress her, had she not? Well, he supposed it was only due to a lack of maids, but she could have called upon one of the ship's maids if she were that desperate. Perhaps she truly would not mind.

Oh, how he longed to undress her fully. To kiss every inch of her beautiful— No! He would not think of what would never be.

His thoughts were disrupted by a gentle hand upon his arm. "Are you alright, Erik?"

"Yes, my love. I was merely dazzled by your infinite beauty," Erik murmured. It was not a lie in any case, just a slight understatement.

Selena snaked her arm around his own and rested her head on his shoulder. "I think I would be happy to remain here forever with you."

"As would I, my dear. As would I."

They stood embracing each other for a long time, happy with their own thoughts which, even for Erik, were peaceful.

Selena was the one who broke that silence. "I was wondering if this ship stops in Italy at all."

Erik cocked his head curiously. "It will, but it will not delay us long. Maybe half an hour at most."

"No, it's not that," she said, shaking her head. "I just thought that perhaps we should go to Rome. I think perhaps you should talk to Giovanni."

Erik froze. "Selena—"

"No, please let me speak," she interrupted, cupping his cheek with her hand. "Luciana's death and his judgment still haunts you. Until you close the door on that part of your life, you will never find peace. I want you to be happy, but that cannot happen until you have closure."

Erik closed his eyes and bowed his head, pressing his forehead against her own. "I have not seen him in years. There is a very strong possibility that he's dead."

"Then we shall go to his grave," Selena said with unwavering determination. Every cell in his body begged him to run, to forget, but deep in his heart he knew she was right. It was something he owed to himself and, more importantly, to Giovanni.

Sighing, he drew away from his beloved and nodded his head hesitantly. She did not giggle in excitement as he expected but merely smiled sadly at him. "Perhaps it is time to retire. Ayesha will be missing us."

Ayesha was indeed missing them. The moment they shut the door they were accosted by her tongue and, with one swift jump, were thrown mercilessly to the ground to receive more affectionate licks.

After she had ceased her incessant slobbering, they set about packing at Selena's insistence, whose excitement about visiting a new country had finally been allowed to surface. Erik was pleased to find that such an impromptu decision was not in vain as strong winds had increased the speed of their travel and they found themselves disembarking the ship barely a day later.

Erik led her to an expensive hotel, booking – as always – a single room. Physical affection comforted them both, especially after the horrors of Persia and with their fabricated marital status it was hardly considered indecent by good society.

The room was much like the ship's in constitution, though the furnishings were far more lavish since there was no fear of the damage that could be caused by rocking and sea water. Erik expected Selena to immediately retire but her adventurous spirit would not allow it. She immediately insisted that they take a stroll to explore their new surroundings and Erik, who could deny her nothing, was more than happy to oblige.

They spent hours exploring. Selena insisted on visiting a number of ancient monuments, taking a particular interest in the colosseum. She did not seem happy to be there but refused to leave, staring directly at the centre of the ancient arena.

"What do you find so very interesting about this ancient ruin?" Erik asked, amused by her rapture.

Selena finally drew her eyes away from the structure to look at him. "It reminds me of the one in Persia. The one where Mizra Taqui Khan died."

"Where I killed him," Erik said sombrely.

Tears brimmed at the edge of Selena's eyes. "Will I ever be able to forget her, Erik? What she did to us?"

Erik drew her into his arms, ignoring their fellow patrons. "Perhaps one day it will fade to an ancient memory that will be completely insignificant, but I cannot lie to you, my love. I very much doubt you will ever be able to forget."

Selena sniffed sadly. "What do you think happened to Nadir and Darius?"

"I do not know," Erik confessed. It was a topic he tried not to think of. To have friends willing to sacrifice their lives for him was a humbling matter. To know that they could be dead was a solemn one.

"I pray every night for their safety," Selena whispered. "I don't… I don't pray as much anymore. It seems so pointless now. I cannot dutifully pray to a God who would torment the man I love so very much."

Erik sighed. "Do not give up your faith for me, my love. God may have tortured me, but he also gave me you. If I died now, I would die the happiest man alive. We should go. Night will fall soon and you are undoubtedly tired."

Selena nodded in agreement, stifling a yawn. They walked back slowly, Selena's feet dragging from exhaustion. The moment Erik had removed the final lace of her corset she collapsed on the bed without bothering to change into her nightgown.

Thoroughly entertained, Erik changed quickly and joined her in her bed. He had found that sleep came more easily to him when she was there and his fear of night terrors was somewhat abated. Though his sleep was light, it was far more restful than it had ever been.

Selena awoke early in the morning with renewed vivacity. Erik, who had awoken several hours before and was lounging on the bed was surprised so find her startle herself awake. Thinking that she had been tormented by a nightmare, he rose to comfort her but was surprised to receive a radiant smile and quick peck on the lips before she rose to choose her dress.

Only once they were seated, eating the breakfast that Erik had ordered, did they truly speak to one another.

"I was thinking that perhaps today we could search for Giovanni," Selena said, taking a bite off her bacon. Erik had insisted that bacon be cooked for her after he learned that she had come to miss pork after spending a year in a country where such food was banned.

"I disagree. There are still so many other buildings to investigate, my love," Erik replied, sipping on his tea. He would not admit that he was merely trying to delay the inevitable.

Selena gave him an unimpressed glance. "You're stalling."

Erik gave her an affronted look. "What a preposterous accusation!"

She continued giving him the same look unwaveringly until he sighed in resignation. "Perhaps I am stalling a little bit."

Selena looked at him pityingly. "Come, come, my love. You're only torturing yourself by stalling. Let's go by his house. You do not have to see him today."

Erik grudgingly nodded in assent and grabbed Ayesha by the collar, leading them outside. The stable boy was swift in readying their horses and soon they were off. Their trip led them to a modest area of the city, where mansions have way to unassuming yet comfortable houses and apartments with small gardens decorated with colourful flowers. The summer sun shone brightly, giving the scene a cosy appearance with none of the vulgar opulence of the upper-class suburbs or the gloomy air of the lower-class ones. It was such a peaceful place that he was almost able to ignore the gasps of fellow commuters as they laid eyes on him and the tigress.

They stopped at a small house, whose elegance and refinement clearly spoke highly of the man who designed it. It was a two-storey, stone structure that rose proudly above its neighbours, its balcony decorated with beautiful flowers that rose confidently towards the sun.

"It's a beautiful home," Selena commented, clearly trying to distract Erik who had grown progressively tenser.

"Yes, Giovanni is a rather accomplished architect," Erik replied, the strain in his voice clearly audible even to his own ears.

"Do you want to leave?" she asked.

Erik considered her question for a long time while scratching Ayesha's ears, torn between longing and fear. Though he had never said it, he was aware that Selena knew that Giovanni was the only father-figure Erik had ever had and the man's approval meant as much to him as her father's meant to her.

Panic seemed to seize him suddenly and he took a few steps back as his eyes grew progressively wider. "We should go."

His breaths became gradually quicker until he was hyperventilating. His lovely Selena held him fiercely as his panic grew and his breathing became increasingly more laboured.

"Erik, is that you?" The frail voice that greeted their ears made Erik's breathing stop altogether. Ayesha turned and growled at the new arrival, unsure of whether he was a friend or foe.

"Sir," Erik murmured meekly, hiding his face shamefully in Selena's shoulder.

Giovanni looked at Erik for a long time as if staring at a ghost before he seemed to realise the full extent of Erik's predicament. "Come in, come in. We shall speak inside."

Though Giovanni seemed wary of the tigress, he did not seem overly concerned, letting her flop happily on the floor. He served them tea and sat across from them, asking no questions as he allowed the warm liquid and Selena's touch to sooth Erik's nerves. His kindness was far more painful to endure than any spiteful words he could have uttered.

Once Erik placed down his tea, Giovanni spoke. "Now Erik, are you going to introduce me to this lovely young woman?"

Erik looked bashfully at the old man, though he was still unable to meet his eyes. "My travelling companion, Lady Selena Turnour. I am returning her to her family."

Giovanni stared at the girl, eyes twinkling in amusement. "And yet you wear my ring."

Erik blushed behind the mask. "We have to keep up appearances for the sake of her honour. I do not wish to disgrace the memory of your wife with false matrimony, but I do love her, sir."

"Do not concern yourself with that," Giovanni interjected with a laugh. "I have no doubt of your love for her or hers for you. I do wish to know what brings you here, however."

Erik closed his eyes and sighed leaning into Selena for strength. _This is it. No more running away._ "I do not presume that I can ever replace what you lost… what I took from you, nor that I could ever make amends. I do not seek forgiveness for my actions but for what it is worth, I am sorry for the part I played in Luciana's death."

"Oh, my dear boy," Giovanni lamented, his eyes brimming with tears. "That you should ever live with such guilt, though unsurprising, is my greatest regret. I never blamed you. There was so much good in you Erik and I feared that, because of my folly, it might never see the light of day but now I see that Lady Turnour has successfully brought that goodness back to light. What happened that day was an accident, a terrible, horrific accident that occurred because I was more willing to indulge my spoilt child than to respect my selfless one and cost me both in the end."

Erik's head snapped up, meeting Giovanni's in hopeful amazement, though a small part of him whispered that he had misheard the man in his desperation to have a parent who loved him.

"I always saw you as the son I never had, Erik," Giovanni stated with conviction, tears now pouring freely down his wrinkled cheeks. "You were brilliant but most importantly you possessed a goodness and purity of soul that I have rarely ever seen in a fellow human being. I watched you take care of the Luciana's neglected garden with such reverence that it moved me. You humoured her fancies with such patience. I watched you cry when I touched your shoulder and it saddened me that you were so unused to kindness. I do not have much to my name but if you wish it, it would be my honour to call you my son."

Erik then did something so childish and immature that his mind cringed with humiliation even as his heart swelled with happiness. He flung himself off his seat and came to rest beside Giovanni, his arms encircling the man like a child who had just woken up from a horrible nightmare.

"And I would be honoured to call you father," he blubbered between sobs.

They stayed there for a fortnight. Erik's extensive knowledge of medicine allowed him to brew several medicines to aid Giovanni's frail health, ensuring that the man would live many more years in comfort.

The old man quickly became accustomed to Ayesha's imposing presence and took to taking long walks with her through the streets of Rome, stating that he felt safer from pickpockets with her around.

The time would have been bliss if not for that fact that, for the first time since they departed from Persia, he and Selena were forced to sleep in separate rooms. At night he lay awake, trying to imagine her comforting presence at his side in a desperate attempt to fall asleep. Several times he tried hugging a pillow, but his mind would not be fooled. He missed her and she had, to his pleasure, quietly confessed that she missed them as well one morning over breakfast.

At the end of those quiet two weeks they departed with a promise that they would visit again.

Just as Selena was mounting her horse, Giovanni called to Erik, requesting a private word with him.

"You should propose to her, truthfully this time," he stated bluntly, leaving Erik's mouth gaping like a fish.

"She would never accept. She is an Earl's daughter. I'm a middle-class deformed man with self-obtained wealth. If she were to marry me she would be the laughing stock of the century. Besides, her parents would never accept our union."

Giovanni smiled ruefully. "My dear late wife's parents did not approve of our marriage either. I will tell you what she told me as I sank into the same pit of despair you find yourself in currently. She said to me 'Giovanni, my love, no one controls our destiny but us. If we wish to marry then we shall marry and the world will have to accept it'. She was a very stubborn woman, my Maria. It was what I loved most about her."

Erik nodded, unsure of what to say. Though he did not have any more hope than he did before, he did not want to tell his poor father that.

"Oh, and do send me a wedding invitation when the date is arranged. I wouldn't miss it for the world," Giovanni whispered to Erik as they were saying their final farewells.

Erik left Italy with a lighter heart than he had ever felt, his past sins in the country being absolved by the only person who could ever have such power.


	27. Engagements

**Hello everyone! I am so, so sorry for my very late update. I went on holiday to visit family and thought I'd have more time to write than I did. Then, when I finally had the time to write, I forgot to save my work and lost it all.**

 **So here is this chapter. I hope you enjoy it :)**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviews, followed and favourited. I am forever grateful for your support and will try to be more punctual from now on.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 26: ENGAGEMENTS  
** **Summer 1852, France – Selena's POV**

Their voyage to Toulon was calm with no impolite lords to ruin their most romantic escapades. Erik insisted on taking her to every evening of entertainment, pointedly ignoring the cautious stares of modern society.

Time flew by quickly, the days melding together so that too soon they found themselves disembarking their luxurious ride in favour of a train that would take them to Rouen where they would begin their search for her parents.

Acquiring first-class tickets proved to be simple, provided that Ayesha remained confined to their rooms for the duration of the journey.

Selena looked up and saw Erik sit across from her, noticing his deepening despair as their journey brought them closer to Rouen, and wondered what bothered him so much.

"Erik, my love, are you alright? You've said nothing for the past three hours."

Erik looked up at her startled, as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Ah… yes. Forgive me, I was lost in thought."

Selena cocked her head. "Thoughts or memories?"

"Both I suppose."

Selena stood and moved to sit beside him, taking his hands in her own. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Erik did not reply for many minutes, choosing instead to stare blankly out the window but Selena was unperturbed. Forcing anything out of him was never wise.

"I was born there," he murmured after some time. "The place does not have good memories for me."

Selena gently nudged his head onto her shoulder, hearing him let out a small sigh as some of the tension left his body.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to."

Erik shook his head, burying it deeper into her shoulder in the process. "No. If there's anything I've learnt from our time in Rome it's that one can only escape one's past for so long. Now it is time I confront it instead." His lips pulled into a small mischievous smile. "It doesn't mean I have to like it."

Selena laughed quietly and rested her head atop his. Jealous of their snuggling, Ayesha deposited her head on Erik's lap and quickly fell asleep. Before long Selena and Erik had also fallen into a light slumber.

 _She dreamt of her family. Her siblings and her parents stood before her in the garden, having one of their weekly picnics. Looking up she saw Erik standing beside her, unmasked his face directed upwards like a flower towards the sun, his eyes closed, his mouth upturned into a brilliant smile._

 _Her father stood and walked towards her, his face stern._

" _Who is this?" he asked forcefully, nodding in Erik's direction. Erik appeared to be stuck in time and did not move from his position._

" _This is Erik, the man whom I wish to marry," Selena replied confidently, though the smile was instantly wiped from her face at her father's darkening expression._

" _Are you quite mad? Have you forgotten your—"_

 _The dream shifted suddenly, and she found herself lying in bed with Erik. He was bestowing random pecks at her face, making her giggle._

" _Selena, my love," he murmured in her ear. "It's time to wake up now."_

Bleary eyes opened to the sight of Ayesha's large face staring curiously at her. She shifted her head so her gaze could land upon her love and could not help the tears that began dribbling down her cheeks.

Erik's playful eyes quickly shifted into concern. "What is wrong, my love?"

"I'd completely forgotten. Oh, Erik…" She flung herself onto him, letting the tears fall onto his vest unabashedly.

"Forgotten what?"

Before Selena could reply the train's horn blew, signalling their arrival. They gathered their bags and picked up the horses and quickly left the train station to avoid the gawking crowds, silently agreeing to finish their conversation in a more private setting.

"It is late. We'll stay at a hotel tonight and then begin our search tomorrow. Does that sound amiable to you?" Selena nodded meekly and followed him, making sure Ayesha did not wander off.

Erik took her to a rundown hotel situated in a rather deserted area of the city, his need for privacy outweighing his need for comfort.

The ancient hotel manager was more than happy to give them a room with no questions asked, desperate for any customer he could attract.

The room was surprisingly well-furnished for its location, making Selena suspect that it was once a hotel of some renown.

Erik allowed the hotel porter to place their bags in the lavish sitting room before ushering him off with a tip and closing the door behind him.

Feeling nauseated, Selena stumbled onto the nearest armchair, making a concerned Ayesha bound after her in concern. The young tigress began nuzzling her arm and Selena gratefully stoked her fur, distracting herself from her predicament.

As soon as Erik had ensured himself of their privacy, he sped towards her and kneeled before her grasping one of her hands while the other felt her forehead for a fever.

"I am not ill, Erik," she said, batting his hand away impatiently.

"Then tell me what's wrong."

Selena tried to maintain composure, but when she looked into his eyes, full of concern and _love,_ she could not help but burst into pitiful sobs and lunge forward to take comfort in his warm embrace.

"My love, please tell me what is causing you so much distress," he murmured into her hair.

Selena shook her head childishly. "You'll never forgive me."

"Of course I will. It cannot be that bad."

"I'm engaged."

Erik froze and disentangled himself from her arms, staring her in shock and betrayal. "What?"

"I'm engaged," she repeated shamefully.

Erik stood and began pacing, stopping intermittently to stare at her. Selena continued to shake with sobs, choosing instead to take comfort in stroking Ayesha's fur for a long time.

"I've only met him once. He studied in Italy and so I was only able to meet him three years ago when he came to my father's estate for his mother's funeral. His name is Lord John Hallward and he is my third cousin. My mother was very sick after I was born, you see, and my father feared that she would die before bearing him any male heirs. He was concerned for his legacy and so he arranged what he deemed to be the most suitable marriages for my sister and me. After my brother was born his fears where assuaged but he refused to break the engagements. Whether or not he had a son, it was useful to have the certainty that his eldest daughters would have good husbands. I had accepted my fate so long ago that I completely forgot. I never meant to trick you, Erik. I truly do love you."

"And what is your opinion of Lord Hallward?" Erik hissed coolly.

Selena gulped. "He is not a bad man, I assume, though it is hard to know after just one meeting but he is ten years older than me and he is in love with my sister. He barely said a word to me when we met, choosing instead to pine over Anne. I didn't care too much before but now… now I have no intention of marrying him."

Erik stared at her suspiciously. "You intend to go against your father's wishes and marry me? A masked freak with no title who would make you no more than a mockery in the eyes of society? You would give up position and comfort for _me_?"

Selena smiled at him and cupped his masked cheek. "I was shallow and bigoted when you first met me. I obeyed the rules of my father and of society without question, thinking them to be right. Thinking that if I conformed I would be happy. But I wasn't, Erik. I was a bird in a cage, singing to those who would praise me. You showed me that I held the key to that cage all along, my love. I think it's time that I use it. So, will you marry me?"

"I believe that it usually the man's line, my dear," Erik said, a grin spreading across his face.

Selena smiled slyly. "Then ask me."

Erik opened his mouth but then a darkness came upon him and he withdrew from her. "You do not know what you are asking, my dear. You do not know what it is like to be despised and abused. You would grow to hate me, Selena. I could not bear for you to hate me."

Selena shook her head. "I do not care. Marry me, Erik."

"Selena, please. Think of what your life would be."

"Marry me!"

"Selena—"

"Please, Erik, marry me. Don't you want to marry me?"

Erik sighed and pulled her back into his arms. "More than anything, my love. I just don't want you to be unhappy."

"Oh Erik," she sighed into his chest. "Next year, I'm going to be forced to marry a man who does not love me and live a beautiful, luxurious, respected life alone. Instead I could marry you. Perhaps I wouldn't be respected or invited to all the fancy parties, but I would be _loved_. I wouldn't be alone. I don't want to be alone."

Erik let out a shuddering gasp which sounded much like a sob. "I'll marry you Selena, if it is what you truly desire."

"It is."

Ayesha broke their embrace by shoving her large head between them and glaring disapprovingly. Selena giggled and crouched down to hug her large head. "I love you too, Ayesha. You'll always be a little cub to me."

Ayesha growled affectionately and snuggled further into Selena's hug, her strength making Selena topple over resulting in an even greater series of giggles. Erik shook his head in amusement and excused himself to order that food be brought up.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Ayesha ate ravenously as she was wont to do while Selena and Erik ate mostly in silence, preferring to steal loving glances at each other. It was Erik who finally broke the silence, his question making Selena choke on her chicken.

"Would you have truly married a man who did not love you, nor you him?"

"I did not know any better," Selena confessed. "Plus, it was expected of me."

"It still is expected of you," Erik countered gently.

Selena smiled and took his hand. "But now I know better."

Ayesha fell asleep after dinner, leaving Erik and Selena free to make their way to the privacy of their room.

Erik took her by the land and led her into their room where he proceeded to undo her corset. "Perhaps we should invest in some more practical clothing, my dear."

"But I like it when you undress me," she retorted, grabbing her nightgown and moving behind the dressing screen.

"I cannot undress you forever."

Selena poked her head from behind the screen and gave him an unimpressed glance. "Erik, we're getting married. Undressing me is an expectation."

Erik chuckled and said no more but Selena noticed his cheeks tinting slightly. Who would have thought he would be the shy one.

She finished dressing and joined Erik in bed, snuggling happily into his chest. She felt him exhale loudly and nudge her towards him, kissing the top of her head.

"You'll marry me," he said, sounding both confused and elated.

Selena raised her head and kissed his lips gently. No words had to be said, the kisses that lulled them into an undisturbed sleep were enough to assure them that their engagement was in fact real and not a wonderful dream.


	28. The Priest

**Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your patience and for everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited! Special shoutouts to Tam Lin's rose, Anastagia, XFullxMoonX, Gallifrey's Child and Soignante.**

 **I'm really sorry that I once again failed by one chapter a week goal but I'm doing two courses that are sucking up all of my time and I'm really struggling to juggle everything. I will continue writing and updating as frequently as possible, it probably just won't be weekly updates.**

 **I do hope you guys enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 27: THE PRIEST  
** **Summer 1852, Rouen – Erik's POV**

Their morning was far less productive that Erik had intended. With the knowledge of their engagement sinking in, their happiness led them to spend most of the morning in bed, intermittently swapping between gently and passionate kisses. It was undoubtedly inappropriate, but he could not bring himself to care.

They were interrupted mid-morning by a bored Ayesha, who plopped down between them, promptly ending their kissing session. Selena giggled and proceeded to grab a random book and read it to Ayesha. Erik questioned her logic, but Selena had insisted that even if the tigress did not understand her words, she would comprehend that it was a display of affection. Erik rolled his eyes but relented.

He spent the next few hours reading a novel that was tucked away in a small bookshelf, but the words were lost to him. He could only concentrate on the peacefulness he felt to be beside someone he loved and loved him back. For the first time, he wasn't afraid.

Well, if he truly thought about it, there was the small fact that he was in the city he was born in, a city he had sworn never to return to. He had to find Selena's family, who would undoubtedly disapprove of him, not to mention their union. He would have to…

"Erik are you alright?" Selena asked, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it comfortingly.

"Yes, my dear. I was just thinking that perhaps it is time for us to get ready."

Selena smiled and rose and began to pick her clothing for the day. She chose a simple blue frock and then beelined to Erik, handing him her corset with a mischievous smirk.

"You are testing my self-control, my dear," he said as he grabbed the garment and began lacing it firmly but not unbearably tight.

He left her after that, moving into the bathroom to prepare himself for the undoubtedly unpleasant day he would have. Vanity led him to choose his most elegant attire, complete with a skin-coloured mask that would make his affliction at least slightly less obvious.

"Should Ayesha join us?" Selena shouted from the bedroom just as he was adjusting his mask.

"Perhaps that would be for the best," Erik replied as he opened the door. "Without our supervision who knows who she'll eat. She is a very apt hunter after all."

"She got a deer once. That hardly counts as adept."

Erik grinned, amused by their light banter. "She's young and still learning, Selena. Don't be so cruel."

He looked down at said cub, finding her lying on the settee eyeing them curiously.

"I didn't mean it," Selena said to the cub. "I'm sure you'll grow up to be the best hunter in the country."

"That wouldn't take much," Erik muttered under his breath. "She's probably the only tiger in France."

Selena mock glared at him. "Now who's being cruel?"

Erik chuckled and held out his arm for her, leading the trio into the busy town. Selena led them directly to her estate in Rouen, not even noticing the stares as the odd group made their way through the monotonous town.

When they arrived, he noticed her bubbly countenance change and the dark and empty walls of the mansion loomed before them. "They must not have come this year."

"Mademoiselle Turnour," an incredulous voice said from behind them.

They turned simultaneously, Selena with excitement and Erik with dread. It was a voice that he recognised all too well.

"God have mercy," the man whispered under his breath so quietly that only Erik's keep hearing could have picked it up though whether he was referring to him or the tigress that was growling at him, he could not say.

"Father Mansart," Erik greeted the man coolly. "It has been a while."

Selena looked between the two men, her eyes wide in surprise. "You two know each other?"

"We have been acquainted for quite some time, have we not?"

Father Mansart could only continue to gape like a fish at the sight before him. Clearly, he had not expected to find the soft-hearted daughter of a Duke with a masked freak.

"Have my parents not come?" Selena asked, her voice small in her grief. Despite the impropriety, especially in front of a priest, Erik could not help but take hold of her hand on his gloved one, pleased to feel her squeeze it gratefully and stubbornly ignored the priest's outraged gasped.

"Have you no common decency, Erik? Take your hands off the poor girl!"

Erik reluctantly released her hand but was surprised by Selena wilfully grabbing his once more. "No, I think I rather like your hand where it is, thank you very much."

A muscle twitched in Father Mansart's temple, but he said no more on the matter. He invited them inside and served them tea and scones which Selena ate gratefully. Ayesha sniffed curiously at the pastries but finding them to be sadly lacking in proteins, let them be and instead laid down, though her eyes stayed trained on the priest the whole time.

"Your parents swore never to return after your disappearance and have left the mansion for me to sell," Father Mansart explained, taking a sip of his tea. "Now, how did you cross paths?"

"I do not believe that is any of your concern," Erik growled, almost yelping when he felt Selena's hand slap his leg.

"Don't be rude."

He was glad for the mask covering his undoubtedly red face when he saw the priest's scandalised stare at their interaction.

"I was kidnapped and taken to Persia to be Erik's… maid," Selena lied, to Erik's surprise. "They thought he'd prefer a French maid, you see, and since I was here, they thought I was French."

"And what, pray tell, were you doing there, Erik?"

"I was employed as an architect by the Shah of Persia." It wasn't technically a lie. "After my job was finished we departed and came here, to bring her home."

"And that is the whole story?" Father Mansart asked dubiously.

"Well, it is a rather condensed version, but I very much doubt our daily activities would be of much interest to you. It was mainly a lot of reading for me and a lot of working for Erik. Quite monotonous, unfortunately." Selena said. "We did find Ayesha, though. She was orphaned, so we took her in."

Father Mansart looked dubiously between them but let the matter go with a sigh of resignation. "I would recommend you return to England as soon as possible for I am certain that your family will be missing you terribly. Although before you go, I would recommend that you visit your mother, Erik."

Erik's planned retort was interrupted by Selena. "That sounds like an excellent idea. We should be going. Thank you very much for the tea, Father. Come Ayesha."

The tigress followed her excitedly, and Erik trailed behind grudgingly with a final glare at the priest.

"I know you don't want to see her, my love," Selena said when they had left. "But you will never move on if you don't."

"I cannot forgive her."

"Then don't. Then go to her and tell her that she was horrible to you. Scream at her or curse, I don't care, but you have to put the past behind you, and the only way to do that is to confront it."

Erik was very much tempted to scream at _her,_ but he knew that she was right and reluctantly nodded his head in consent.

"Excellent! Now, where does she live?"

That was how Erik found himself knocking on the door of the house that had long ago been his prison as the sun set in the horizon, Selena and Ayesha waiting anxiously by his side.

The house had not changed much since he had last seen it. It was more rundown perhaps, and the garden was not quite as well tended but the windows of the attic remained bared and the lights burned brightly from inside, just as it had when he escaped his house and looked at it from the outside, watching his mother sitting by the fire and either reading or embroidering.

He heard shuffling from behind the door, and he braced himself, but the woman behind the door was not his mother.

"Mademoiselle Perrault," he said with a bow. "Forgive me, I assume you are now Madame."

Mademoiselle Perrault's thin frame was slightly bent with age and wrinkles marred her face, but the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes were a sure sign that the woman remained as gentle and kind as she had always been. Her eyes were glued to Ayesha in terror making Erik chuckle. His laughter must have brought her back to reality, for her eyes snapped to meet his and a broad smile covered her face.

"I am still Mademoiselle, Erik," she said. "I am glad you have returned. Come, come! I'm certain you are here to see Madeleine. And Lady Turnour is with you too? It is an honour, my lady. Forgive my bluntness, but I thought you had died."

Selena smiled gently. "I was kidnapped, but Erik found me and will return me to my family."

"Oh, I see," she murmured. "Well, that's very fortunate. Please do come in. I am afraid the home is rather untidy. I have not gotten around to cleaning it yet."

"That's quite alright."

The house was in fact rather untidy. Dishes piled in the sink and dust was covering the furniture. Mademoiselle Perrault led them to the cluttered drawing room where the piano still stood proudly, though it was also obscured by dust and obviously suffering from disuse.

Erik longed to run his hands across the keys of a pianoforte once again, but the memories that that specific one brought to light stayed his hand.

Mademoiselle Perrault walked to the hunched figure who sat in a wheelchair before the fireplace and whispered in her ear. The frail creature raised her head and looked up in shock. Perrault turned the wheelchair, allowing Erik to come face-to-face with his mother once again.

She had not aged well, to say the least. It was unsurprising that she could not stand since her body shook terribly with every small twitch. Her eyes stared unseeingly before her, and her hair hung heavily on her face, grey and straw-like. Her face was so wrinkled that he could barely see the beautiful, proud woman who she once was. Despite his anger, he could only bring himself to pity her. Oh, how the mighty had fallen!

"Mother," he greeted the woman.

"Erik! Oh, is it really you? Come closer so that I may see your face. My eyesight is almost gone, I can now only see what is closest to me. And you do not come alone for I heard more than two pairs of footsteps when I entered." Her voice was hoarse and quiet, so weak that Erik feared one slight increase in volume might snap her vocal cords.

Selena moved forward but Erik stopped her, grabbing her wrist gently. "I think we would rather remain where we are, Madam. Is your dear doctor now departed?"

His mother lowered her head. "I would not know. I refused to marry him, Erik. I wasn't going to send you away, I couldn't do that. You were my son. You _are_ my son and I love you. I'm only sorry I didn't realise sooner."

Erik was rendered mute. All his life he had thought he was abandoned by his mother in favour of a husband. He thought his mother hated him for existing, hated him for ruining her life and now she told him she loved him. _She loved him._ Oh, how he had longed to hear those words as a child. How he had longed to be loved by his mother for eight miserable years. How his mother's hatred haunted him throughout his time with the gypsies, with Giovanni, In Russia, in Persia. How many times had he turned to alcohol and drugs to mask his pain? How many nights had passed unslept just to avoid nightmares of his youth? Now she said she loved him, and it did not matter.

"Loving me now does not change what happened. It doesn't give me back my childhood and so, though I can accept your words, I cannot forgive you nor can I forget years of abuse. However, I can thank you. Due to your cruelty, I was forced to leave, and it led me to Persia, where I met my fiancée who stands here beside me now, and I _know_ she loves me unwaveringly. So I shall bid you adieu, mother." With a sweeping bow he turned and departed, his heart feeling lighter than it ever had.

Selena took his hand once they were out of sight. "I'm proud of you."


	29. Family

**I am finally back everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who has continued to support this story despite me not being able to update as regularly as before. Please continue to do so because it really makes me want to continue writing.**

 **Without further ado, I shall give you this next chapter. :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 28: FAMILY  
** **Autumn 1852, England – Selena's POV**

The boat trip had been tedious, and the train was proving to be even more so. Ayesha slept peacefully with her large head on Selena's lap as she stared out the window watching as the trees and farms passed by lazily. It was a dreary day and the rain poured down upon the endless fields, leaving the world covered in thick fog. Erik, however, seemed to be quite happy as he relaxed in his seat and read through his newspaper. She looked down at her hand, now devoid of a ring, feeling strangely empty without it. They had agreed to play the part of siblings until they found her parents since she was far too well known in London for a wedding ring to go unnoticed. She huffed in annoyance and returned to her staring. She had completely forgotten the darkness of England after spending so long in the Persian desert and in the warmth of Italy.

"Will you stop you huffing?" Erik asked affectionately without averting his gaze from his newspaper.

"I'm bored," she whined.

"We're almost there, my love."

Selena suddenly felt her eyes well up with tears. Erik seemed to sense her mood change because he immediately looked up from the pages in concern.

"The truth is that I'm not sure if I want to go back," she confessed in a hushed whisper like a prayer. "I-I love my family but they're very traditional—"

"You don't say," Erik muttered under his breath.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You were infuriatingly traditional when we first met, my love. It was the cause of a lot of heartache if I'm not mistaken," he replied, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"That's why I'm scared, Erik. I don't want that heartache again. I want them to meet you and love you. I want them to accept our marriage and give us their blessing without a second of hesitation. I want us all to be happy."

Erik sighed and moved to kneel before her, startling the slumbering Ayesha for only a second before she fell back to sleep with a yawn. "Selena, my dear. I don't want to cause a rift between your family, but I will undoubtedly do so. I am not an easy man to accept."

"It isn't fair," she lamented, burying her head in his shoulder.

"The world seldom is, my love."

She must have fallen asleep at some point for she woke up to Erik shaking her shoulder gently. She opened her bleary eyes and saw his slightly guilty-looking ones. "I'm sorry, my love, but it would hardly be proper to carry you."

She nodded in assent and stood, taking hold of Selena's collar. They had found that such an act seemed to calm fellow travellers and Ayesha did not seem to mind too much so long as they did not pull on the collar and strangle her, which had happened once when she tried to run after a fat pigeon as they waited for their train. Unfortunately, the bird had not survived to see another day. Erik had lectured Ayesha on the dangers of eating diseased animals as if the tigress would understand him, much to Selena's amusement.

Now they walked through the busy streets of London. It was still early in the day and so the hustle and bustle of the city was at its worst. Erik and Ayesha, however, managed to part the crowd easily, allowing them to find a cab quickly. The frightened driver helped them with their luggage before running back to the front of the carriage and urging his spooked horse on.

They had decided to make for her parent's house immediately. It was best not to linger in a city where she was so well-known with a strange man and a tiger for gossip would spread like wildfire by the next morning.

The carriage stopped at her family estate and she stared. It loomed menacingly before her, making her swallow the nerves and excitement bubbling in her gut. She missed her family dearly, but it had been over a year since she had last seen them and she feared they would not recognise her.

Erik took her hand in his and raised it to his lips in an act of comfort, giving her the courage she needed to exit the carriage. Erik went to get their bags while she kept an eye on Ayesha, who stared disapprovingly around her. Perhaps a city was not a tiger's favourite home. Hopefully, her family's garden would be enough to satisfy the young animal.

As the carriage drove away, Selena took a deep breath and walked up to the door, knocking loudly on the door, her heart hammering in her ribcage. She wished she could just bury her face into Erik's neck and that he would wrap his arms around her, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings into her ears until her fears were abated; but his hands were full with their luggage and they could not risk being caught in such a compromising position in public anyway.

"Everything will be alright, my love," she heard him say, though whether she was speaking to her or to himself, she could not say.

The door opened and Selena held her breath. The butler stood on the other side. His composure fell when he saw her, his face contorting into a look of confusion and shock as he saw the familiar face of his master's daughter.

"M–my lady. I cannot believe it is you. We had all but given up hope. Please, come in, come in. But the animal, my lady—"

"I would feel more comfortable with her beside me, thank you, Parker," she interrupted. "Oh, and this is the man who saved me, Lord Erik Destler. Could you see to it that he is given our best guest room?"

"Of course, my lady," Parker replied while gesturing for a couple of footmen to take their bags. "Shall I fetch your parents?"

"Yes please, Parker. I shall be in the blue room."

The butler departed and Selena led Erik to the drawing room, her hands trembling. Despite how hard it was to read Erik, he seemed nervous, his eyes constantly shifting as if trying to find an escape route.

"Erik," she said as they sat down, Ayesha taking her place between them, "we will be fine."

The words felt hollow even to her. There was no way anything would be completely fine.

The door opened with a quiet whoosh of air and Selena could feel the blood rushing to her ears and grabbed hold of Erik's arm to steady herself. Her mother rushed forward first, her arms outstretched but stopped in her tracks the moment she caught sight of Ayesha, who was eyeing the newcomers suspiciously, and ran back to hide behind her husband with a shriek. Her father was more composed, though his eyes did not leave the tigress for a moment.

Seeing her parents after over a year apart was probably one of the most joyful moments of her life and for a few minutes she was able to forget all her fears. She ran to them, and hugged them, happy to feel them returning the embrace despite their trepidation.

Only after many moments did they begrudgingly part, her father cupping her face in his hands and staring at her as if trying to ascertain that it was indeed his long-lost daughter.

"We are so glad you're safe, my dear," he said, his voice shaky with emotion, gesturing for everyone to sit. "You must tell us everything."

And so she told them about her kidnapping, her time in Persia, finding Ayesha and finally their daring escape. She told them about the Shah's naivety, the Khanum's malice, the Daroga's kindness and Darius' gentle nature. Once again she lied about her status, claiming that she was Erik's servant and not his concubine.

"Thank you very much for returning our daughter to us," her father said to Erik after she had finished her tale rising to shake his hand. "We are forever in your debt. Please allow us to give you some compensation for your troubles. Anything you desire shall be yours, you need only ask."

Erik pressed hid thumb against his palm and rubbed it nervously before suddenly straightening his shoulders and staring boldly at the Earl of Winterton. Had Selena not known how to see the turbulent fear in his eyes, she would have believed him to be the epitome of confidence.

"There is only one thing in this world I desire, my lord."

"And what is it?"

"Your daughter's hand in marriage," he stated with a gesture in Selena's direction.

Her father froze, his brain working desperately to process what Erik had asked him and her mother gasped from her position on the settee, looking positively scandalised. Erik took his eyes away for her father for a moment to stare lovingly at Selena before returning his gaze to the Earl.

"I do not know if you are aware, my lord, but my daughter is engaged to Lord John Hallward," her father said.

"I am aware," Erik replied, almost cockily.

Selena's mother stood and glared at Erik in indignation. "You know of our daughter's engagement and dare to ask for her hand. I am grateful to you for her return but if you think for one second that we would allow one of our children to marry a freak like you—"

"Mother!" Selena shouted, standing defensively in front of Erik, who seemed surprisingly unperturbed by her mother's words. "Don't you dare insult him."

Her mother's face turned red with anger at Selena's rudeness but said nothing. Her father, on the other hand, looked conflicted.

"My lord, apologies for my wife's words but Selena's engagement cannot simply be broken now. Her fiancé has been searching tirelessly for her, refusing to marry any other. We cannot simply—"

"With all due respect, I believe the final choice should be left to the woman in question, do you not agree?" Erik asked, turning to look at the woman standing protectively before him.

Selena's mother scoffed. "If you believe that my daughter would wish to wed you over the young marquis then you are quite mistaken."

"But I want to marry Erik, I mean Lord Destler," Selena said with more confidence than she thought possible. "I love him and want to marry him, whether or not I have your blessing."

"Have you gone quite mad?" her mother stated, looking like she was about to swoon, but Selena only had eyes for Erik at that moment.

Her father opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and an adolescent boy walking in before stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Selena. She smiled at him and he lunged at her, embracing her for a few moments before he let her go, clearing his throat uncomfortably in embarrassment.

"It's… um… I'm glad you're here, Selena," he said awkwardly.

She smiled at her little brother and patted his shoulder affectionately. "I'm glad to be back, John."

Her father cleared his throat. "I'm certain you are both exhausted. I will allow you to go rest and see you again at dinner. There is much still to discuss."

Selena nodded in agreement. "I'll see you later, father. Goodbye Johnny."

The butler arrived to take Erik to his room and for the first time in months Selena and Erik were forced to part, the guest rooms being in the west wing and hers in the east wing. Ayesha decided to follow her mistress and, with one last look towards Erik, Selena turned and made her way to her rooms.

They were exactly as she'd left them, all creams and mahogany wood and so very feminine. It oozed innocence and fragility and felt like the room of the woman she had once been. It would have to do until she could change the décor somewhat.

She fell backwards onto her bed and closed her eyes, the exhaustion of her travels draining her completely. Before she could fall asleep, however, the door burst open and her mother strode him, her face flushed with fury.

"How could you disrespect me, Selena. I am your mother!"

Had this happened months prior she would have shrunk back and apologised immediately but now, after years of living in constant danger, her mother seemed as meek as a mouse.

"How dare you insult my fiancé," she retorted.

Her mother laughed. "Your fiancé? You think that we shall ever allow you to marry that… thing? Mark my words, girl, you _will_ marry Lord Hallward and you will be grateful that he is a gentleman."

With that she stormed out of the room and Selena collapsed onto her bed, bursting into tears. Ayesha placed her lead on Selena's lap, looking up at her mistress with concern. She didn't mind when Selena dropped to her knees beside her and embraced her, sobbing into her soft fur. How she wished she could just run away with Erik and live on some small deserted island where no one could hurt them but she wanted her family in her life as well. Perhaps she would have to choose one before the end.

Dinner was an awkward affair and would've been laced in silence had her little brother John not insisted on chattering the whole time.

"Oh, it's such a shame you missed Anne's wedding, she had always planned for you to be there… Elizabeth, the twins and Philip are all staying at Aunt Linda's house. I wanted to go to but father insists I must concentrate on my education… Have you heard of the latest scandal? It appears that Lady Bradbury was found to be unfaithful. Her own husband caught her in bed and with a footman no less…" His chatter went on and on.

No more was spoken on the topic of engagements that night, her father only mentioning that there would be a ball in honour of her return before excusing himself, her mother following shortly after.

As Selena lay in bed that night, she felt terribly alone. She wasn't used to sleeping without Erik beside her and now found herself unable to do so. She laid in bed, Ayesha at her feet, hoping that exhaustion would override her loneliness but it didn't. She stared at the ceiling for hours before she was startled by a rap at the window. She sat up on the bed and stared at her balcony only to find Erik waving shyly at her from the other side. She all but bolted to the window, ignoring her obvious state of undress, and pulled him into the room before someone saw him.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "I just missed you."

Selena kissed him passionately in response until they were both left breathless. She stared deep into his eyes and took off his mask and smiled. "I missed you, too."

Selena almost shrieked when Erik picked her up and threw her onto the bed, awakening Ayesha in the process, who let out an annoyed growl and moved to the settee. Erik climbed in after her and drew her to him, kissing her neck.

"You're irresistible, my dear."

Selena could only blush in response, the lust in his words painfully obvious. "Erik, we can't… um… I can't… not before we're married…"

Erik stared at her incredulously for several seconds before bursting into quiet laughter. "I wasn't suggesting it, my love, I know your faith means far too much to you. I was just stating a fact."

"I think you're quite irresistible too," Selena heard herself saying before she could stop herself. Mortified, she felt her cheeks burning more than she ever thought possible. If her mother had heard that, Lord knows she would have been sent to a nunnery the next day.

Erik only seemed flattered though, to her surprise. He blushed as well, the red tinge prominent on his pale cheeks, and pulled her head onto his chest, stroking her hair.

"Erik?" she called out quietly a long time after, afraid he was asleep. His hand had long ago ceased the hypnotising stroking.

She heard him humming in response and looked at to find him staring at her curiously.

"Are you alright?"

Erik cocked his head in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"My mother was cruel to you today," Selena murmured apologetically.

"I did not expect for my request to be well met, my dear."

Suddenly Selena sat up, much to Erik's confusion, though he remained laying down.

"I've made up my mind," she stated. "If my parents do not accept our love after the ball, we shall elope."

"You can't be serious? Your family—"

"My family means a lot to me but everyone will be miserable if I am forced to marry Hallward, but if I marry you we can be happy. I want freedom, Erik and only you can give me that."

Erik laid there, his mouth agape, desperately fishing for something to say as tears welled up in his eyes. For once in his life, he could say nothing and pulled Selena down to him as their lips met once more.


	30. Ball

**Thank you very much for everyone's support! It really means a lot to me! Special shoutout to Tam Lin's rose and SometimesDreamsCanBeReal!**

 **Trigger warning: This chapter mentions domestic abuse so if it's upsetting to you please don't read this chapter. You can PM me and I'll send you a trigger free summary.**

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 **CHAPTER 29: BALL  
** **Autumn 1852, England – Selena's POV**

Selena was awoken by a maid. She grumbled and snuggled deeper into the pillow before the thought of Erik startled her awake. She shot up in bed and looked around wildly for him but found no trace of his presence except for the lingering smell of him on one of her pillows.

The maid was bustling to and fro, arranging her clothes and accessories for the day. She was an older woman, with a stern glare and a stiff lip, most likely chosen by her mother to keep her in line.

"Where is Mary?" Selena asked the maid, once she had picked up the tray of foot at her bedside. Ayesha moved curiously towards the food, but finding no meat on the tray, slumped onto the floor with boredom.

"Who, my lady?" The cold tone in the maid's voice made Selena suspect that she knew exactly who Mary was.

"My old maid," she explained, sipping her tea.

"She was dismissed after your disappearance, my lady. There was no use for her, after all." Yes, this new maid was most definitely sent by her mother. "I am Mrs Brown and shall be your maid until your mother finds a suitable replacement. I was instructed to tell you that you shall be remaining in your rooms until the ball this evening as your mother wishes for you to be well-rested when Lord Hallward arrives."

"He shall be coming? On such short notice?"

Mrs Brown scoffed. "Of course. Talk of your return has set society ablaze with curiosity. All of London shall be coming, along with any other noble that can arrive within the day. It is predicted to be one of the largest balls of the season."

Selena swallowed a piece of toast but it tasted like ash in her mouth. Her mother was clever, that was certain. With so many coming, Selena could not possibly break off the engagement without making a scene and irrevocably damaging her family's reputation as well as her own. It was a matter she would have to think on deeply before the party began and luckily she would have a whole day to do so.

The hours ticked by slowly. She wasn't allowed to read or sketch because it would apparently exhaust her and so she was forced to either embroider or lie in bed, stoking Ayesha's soft fur. She had no doubt that it was a punishment for her outburst the day before.

It was only after afternoon tea that she was allowed to rise to have a bath. She let Ayesha out, certain that she would go and find Erik and knowing that the tigress could not be kept locked in a room for an entire day. As Mrs Brown scrubbed her skin until it glowed, she continued to think on a plan. She could always elope but she would rather avoid disowning herself from her family, both to maintain their reputation and because she still loved them. She was certain that the wedding plans would begin right after the ball, after all she was eighteen, and her sister, Anne, had already married at some point while she was gone.

By the time she was wrapped in a towel and being urged into the bedroom, where a light pink ball dress was already waiting, she was no closer to formulating a plan.

Mrs Brown laced up her corset mercilessly, strangling her until she could barely breathe. She was sure Erik would have a fit if he had seen. The thought of Erik saddened her. She missed the intimacy and flirting that came with their daily ritual of tightening and loosening her corset. She missed the fluidity of his movements, the deftness of his fingers, his breath on the back of her neck, the—

"You are flushed, my lady," Mrs Brown said disapprovingly, standing in front of her, startling Selena out of her reverie. She had no idea when the maid had finished lacing her corset.

"The corset is too tight." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Your mother asked for you to look your best. You can't expect to look more than decent with a half-tightened corset."

 _There's a very big difference between half-tight and strangulation, you old hag, and I'm more than certain that Erik's noose would be happy to demonstrate the difference._ Selena brought her hand to cover her mouth, horrified at her own thoughts, muttering some excuse about how the tightness of corset was making her feel nauseous, to which Mrs Brown rolled her eyes and turned to grab the rest of her undergarments. The rest of the dressing was uneventful, except for the fact that Selena was truly struggling to breathe and tried desperately to remember how she used to do it. Mrs Brown then sat her down before her vanity and began roughly pulling her hair into the latest fashion, sticking so many pins into it that she was certain it would take hours to find all of them.

By the time the maid announced that she was ready, the sun had already set and she could hear the voices of the first guests coming from downstairs. She looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. She felt like the seventeen-year-old girl who had been kidnapped not the woman she was now. Her dress was a frivolous mess of bows and embroidered flowers that would have attracted most girls her age but repulsed her. It wasn't that she disliked either decoration, she just appreciated it more when it was done tastefully.

Mrs Brown came to her and handed her a mask. "His Lordship has decided to make it a masquerade ball so that Lord Destler may attend without drawing too much suspicion to himself." Selena put on the pink butterfly mask and made her way to the ballroom.

Not many guests had arrived when as she descended. She could see her parents near the entrance as they greeted their guests and a few familiar lords and ladies, but she only had eyes for Erik. He stood uncomfortably in a corner, talking to an overeager dowager countess but when he saw her he quickly excused himself, walking towards her and extending his hand to help her down the last steps.

"You look stunning, my dear, as always," he said.

"I look ridiculous and you know it, but you look quite handsome as well." He was wearing a simple black suit, the golden mask adorning his face standing down like a beacon under the gaslight.

"I look ridiculous and you know it," he mimicked with a small chuckle. "The mask was a gift from your mother."

Selena snorted. "Of course it was."

"Selena, my dear," her mother interrupted. "Come greet our guests."

She dragged Selena away from Erik by the arm and forced her to receive every guest. The next two hours were a haze as she was compelled to greet arriving guests, gossip with giggling ladies, and endlessly repeat her story to curious crowds. The whole time she had been unable to talk to Erik. She would see him from time to time but her mother was careful to always direct her away from him when she saw him as well.

"I heard that you brought back a tiger from your travels, Lady Turnour," Lord Addington said, a middle-aged count with a curved moustache and rotund belly that spoke of too much drinking, his cheeks already flushed as he sipped on his champagne.

Before Selena could reply however, her mother interrupted. "Oh yes, she found the cub starving and took her under her wing. My dear daughter has such motherly tendencies, you see and cannot help but devote herself to those in need. The tiger is now in the back garden."

"I am certain she will make an amazing wife," a familiar voice commented from behind them.

Selena and her mother turned to be met with Lord Hallward, who was smiling. His blond hair was perfectly combed back and his face clean shaven. He wore a green suit and a matching green mask. He took her mother's hand and kissed it before repeating the gesture with Selena.

Selena's mother gushed at the man. "My Lord, I am so pleased you are here. Forgive us for not greeting you at the door, we were deep in conversation with Lord Addington."

Hallward shook Addington's hand and then the latter excused himself, sensing that he was no longer welcome in the group.

"I am so pleased to find you unharmed, my lady," he said, a genuine smile on his face.

"Thank you, my lord. I must thank you for all the efforts you put into finding me," Selena replied with a polite bow.

"His Lordship informed me that a certain Lord Destler assisted you in your escape. I would like to thank him if possible."

Her mother's smile faltered at the mention of her new nemesis but there was nothing she could say or do.

"Oh yes, he was most helpful," Selena said, scanning the ballroom and finally spotted him watching her from a corner. He looked as uncomfortable as ever, though there was a contained anger (or was it jealousy?) in the way he stood but she smiled anyway, gesturing him over. He hesitated for a second before walking over to the small group. "Lord Destler, this is Lord Hallward. Lord Hallward, my saviour Lord Destler."

Lord Hallward shook Erik's hand effusively. "My Lord, I am so grateful for all you have done to return my beloved fiancée to me, I am forever in your debt."

Erik's smile was forced as he nodded in acknowledgement and Selena longed to take his hand, knowing it always comforted him.

Her mother cleared her throat. "Lord Hallward, I am certain that you have much you wish to discuss with my daughter—"

"Yes, there is in fact much to discuss but that can wait. I wish to learn everything that there is to know about Lord Destler. What were you doing in Persia to begin with?"

"I was commissioned as an architect. It is a hobby of mine that gained the attention of the Shah," Erik said casually.

Lord Hallward looked very excited by everything, asking many questions, ranging from culture to the landscape. Erik answered all his questions, leaving out only the most violent and criminal details. He seemed distracted, however, his eyes always shifting to the same spot. Selena followed his gaze subtly and almost gasped. On the other side of the room stood Lord Windermere with his shy little wife. He was laughing loudly at something another lady had said. She did her best to ignore him, hoping he wouldn't notice her. It didn't take long, however, for him to join the small group, leaving his wife behind.

"Lord Hallward, how are you, my friend?" he said, shaking the younger man's hand.

"I am perfect now that my fiancée has returned to me."

Lord Windermere raised his eyebrows. "Your fiancée? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, my lady." He kissed her hand though when he rose there was a malicious glint in his eye. He was then introduced to Erik and her mother. He made small talk for a few minutes before excusing himself to get another drink and find his wife. Erik and Selena eyed each other in concern for a split second before Lord Hallward began his questioning once again.

Soon after, Lord Hallward asked for a dance, which she couldn't refuse and so was once again whisked away from Erik. She was forced to dance to several songs, being twirled around by a man she did not love while the one that she did watched her solemnly. He knew that her mother would forbid them dancing together of he even tried to ask.

It was nearing the end of the night when Lord Windermere strutted onto the stage where the musicians played and ordered them to stop. The interruption forced everyone to cease what they were doing and stare at the man as he urged everyone forward. Selena and Lord Hallward looked at each other in confusion but stopped dancing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have a very important piece of information to share with you that I think will be important to learn, especially to my dear friend, Lord Hallward," he announced, raising his glass in her current fiancé's direction. Selena's stomach dropped as she realised what was happening, but she couldn't move with the crowd milling around her. "As you all know, I was recently on my honeymoon with my beloved wife. On this trip we took a boat to France, and you would not believe who else was on this boat. Lady Turnour and Lord Destler! Yes, indeed, ladies and gentlemen. But this is not what is truly interesting," he continued, wagging his finger to the crowd. "What is interesting is that during said journey they were sharing a room," the crowd began to murmur at his words. "And what's more, they told me they were married. Married! I tell you this, ladies and gentlemen, only because I wish for my dear friend to know the true character of the woman he is planning to marry. An unmarried woman who would sleep with a masked man, because you see, the only reason this is a masquerade ball is to hide the fact that Lord Destler always wears a mask. It makes me wonder whether he is a criminal or a freak!"

The voices in the room rose up suddenly as the chatter began in earnest. Lord Hallward stared at her in horror and disbelief and Selena stumbled backwards, feeling faint. In the middle of all the clamour someone grabbed her arm and dragged her into an empty room.

Her mother's face looked before her, livid and menacing. She didn't have time to react before she raised her arm and slapped her, knocking her head sideways. She pressed her hand to her face in shock and pain before looking back at her mother.

"Is it true?" her mother asked, her voice barely a whisper. Before she could think of a reply her father came in, staring at the scene before him before moving towards Selena to check her face. "Don't coddle her, George. And I asked you girl, is it true?"

"Yes." Selena said simply. Her mother slapped her again.

"How dare you! Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you think Lord Hallward will marry you now?"

"Well then it's a good thing I never planned on marrying him," Selena replied.

Her mother's face turned redder than she thought possible. "Insolent girl!" She lifted her hand to slap Selena again but her father stopped her.

"That's enough, Mary." He then turned to Selena. "Why would you do this."

"We don't look anything alike! We couldn't just pretend to be siblings or even cousins so we opted for spouses. He was nothing but a gentleman and we never…" she blushed. "We never did anything improper." _Except all the kisses and touches, sleeping in the same bed and the fact that he dressed and undressed me everyday._

"It doesn't matter, the damage is done. Hallward's father has called off the engagement in light of recent events and your reputation is ruined, Selena."

Her mother stepped forward. "We ought to send her to a nunnery in Sweden. That should teach her a lesson."

"Mary, that's enough. You did what you had to do to survive, Selena that I can respect. I just wish there had been another way—"

"There wasn't," she murmured.

Erik suddenly burst into the room and ran directly to Selena, his gaze going directly to her bruised cheek. His face contorted in anger at the sight and he turned to her mother, eyes blazing. Her mother stepped back in fear and Selena had no doubt Erik would have attacked had she not grabbed his arm to hold him back.

"Lord Destler," her father said, cutting the deathly silence. "You asked for my daughter's hand in marriage and I refused because she was betrothed to another but now she finds herself without a fiancé and with a ruined reputation, because of you. So now I must not only ask, but insist that you marry her, if only to preserve whatever integrity she has left."

Selena breathed a sigh of relief and Erik seemed to calm down as well, even as he nodded his head in acceptance. Her reputation was a worthy price to pay if it meant she could marry Erik.

"George, you can't possibly—"

"I can and I will," he interrupted. "This is the best solution for everyone involved."

Selena approached her father and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered before re-joining Erik.

Her father smiled at the couple and then shook his head fondly. "We shall speak more of the details in the morning. This evening has been enough of a disaster and I'm sure you are both exhausted."

He kissed Selena's good cheek and shook Erik's hand before leaving the room without a word, leaving them alone with her mother. She said nothing but instead grabbed Selena by the elbow and dragged her out of the room, not even allowing her to say goodbye to Erik.

She was completely silent when she undressed Selena, dismissing the maid early. Once she was in her nightgown her mother tucked her into bed though there was no kindness in her eyes.

"Perhaps this marriage is for the best," she said much to Selena's surprise. "When his true nature comes out and he starts beating you perhaps you'll learn your lesson and go to a nunnery."

Selena looked at her mother indignantly. "He would never—"

"That's what your aunt said, with the same confidence you did. Now she's six feet under." Selena looked at her mother in surprise. She had always refused to talk about her sister. "I only wanted what was best for you, Selena, but I cannot help you if you don't want me to." She left after that without another word.

It didn't take long for her to hear Erik's shy tapping on the window. She ran to him and swung the door open, hugging him closely.

It was when they lay in bed, him tracing lazy patterns on her arm that she heard him whisper. "I would never hurt you."

 _So he heard._ "I know."


	31. Revenge

**I have returned. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I sure did.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed with special shout outs to Tam Lin's rose, Soignante and a Guest :)**

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 **CHAPTER 30: REVENGE  
** **Autumn 1852, England – Erik's POV**

Ayesha disliked society as much as he did, of that he was certain. Erik had been avoiding the curious glances of the gossiping staff and occasional guest as much as he could, and Ayesha was faring no better. The poor tigress kept being accosted by the curious idiots who thought it wise to approach her, only to squeal like pigs and run when she growled at them. They had so much fear and yet so little shame.

After that unfortunate incident at the ball regarding the bothersome Lord Windermere, his dear Selena had been sent to her elder sister's in the country by her mother until their wedding, which was to take place soon according to her father though no formal date had been set. Although he was told she was going there to visit her family, Erik had no doubt that it was a ploy to separate them; though whether it to protect her reputation or perhaps to torment them he could not say.

There was no point dwelling on his future mother-in-law's petty tactics, for he would have to tolerate her forever and he was far too stubborn to stoop to her level, and Selena's father had been nothing but civil to him. Lord Windermere, however, was another matter entirely. The man practically begged for retribution after harming Selena's reputation the way he did. It was very likely that they would have to leave England after their wedding, if only so that she could live without the constant sneers and whispers. He'd heard them many times, in the days since she'd left. Whispers of her wanton ways and that she had run away in search of pure hedonism. Every murmur, every rumour made his grip tighten on his noose that never left his coat pocket but there was nothing he could do; stories were carried by breaths and once they latched onto a willing ear could never die, even if he cut the tongue and hands of everyone in the country.

He could not stop the stories, but he could get revenge and Erik had a very particular skill set for such things. So as he sat upon the bench, in the quiet garden with Ayesha's head resting on his knee and her eyes staring curiously at him, he began to think of a plan so devilish, it would bring the arrogant Lord Windermere to his knees. And what a plan it was!

He set to work immediately, since there was much work to be done before all preparations were complete. It was perhaps a laborious task, to find all the irritating things that were needed, and Ayesha was no help whatsoever, so he set about it alone. It was quite a shame that noble houses were so well-kept, or his job would have been infinitely easy. Instead, he was forced to wait until night had fallen to begin stalking the streets, staying away from the prying eyes of the people who still wandered in the darkness. Such a feat would have been simple, had his task not forced him to dart quickly from place to place with no time to ensure he could not be seen.

As dawn began to break he began placing that which he had acquired gently in a large trunk with a sigh. He was still so far from his goal.

He could feel the bouts of exhaustion coming along. Without his dear Selena to force him into bed every night, he had been negligent. It had been perhaps over two days since he had last rested. Once that would have been nothing, but Selena had softened him, and he could feel himself become more human with each passing day. His soul yearned for her. To touch her, to kiss her, to hold her. Even just her childish antics, her pious nature, her bell-like laugh. He missed it all, from her most endearing to her most infuriating qualities. What a love-struck fool he had become!

He changed for bed and lay down. It was cold and empty without his beloved beside him, curled up against his chest. How had he ever survived without her? He tossed and turned for many moments before rising again in frustration and strode to his balcony where he began his familiar descent to the garden below. Ayesha was nowhere to be found, but perhaps she had simply found some dark spot to rest. The tigress missed Selena almost as much as he did and had become irritable and dejected ever since her mistress had left. He scaled the wall that led to Selena's room, aided by the vines that crept up the side of the mansion.

Much to his surprise, he found Ayesha laying in Selena's bed, the door to her room ever so slightly ajar. Perhaps she missed her mistress as much as he did. The tigress lifted her large head when he opened the latch of the balcony doors but finding it to only be him simply rested her head between her paws once again and went to sleep. Erik lay down on the bed as well, gripping one of her large pillows tightly to his chest, trying desperately to convince himself that it was her. Slowly, he was lulled into a restless sleep, Selena haunting his dreams.

He awoke only a few hours later. He glanced at the Comtoise clock and rose with a groan. The staff would be rising soon, and it would be unwise to be caught in Selena's room, or leaving it for that matter.

Ayesha remained sprawled on the bed, but he quickly descended her balcony and returned to his room, where he began his morning routine. He dressed in his ever-immaculate attire and brushed his hair back, never once daring to glance in the mirror until his mask was firmly in place. Only then did he walk to the full-length mirror, straightening any small creases in his clothes and a stray strand of hair that had rebelliously refused to stay in place.

Soon after a shy knock came from his door.

"His Lordship has requested your presence for breakfast, my Lord," a demure little maid said shyly, her eyes never leaving the floor. She curtsied and left swiftly.

Erik sighed dramatically and went to breakfast as ordered. Lord George Turnour was perhaps his closest ally in the household (if ally was even the proper term), and it would do him no good to make enemies where he could find friends.

Unfortunately, Lady Mary Turnour, his arch-nemesis was also at the breakfast table when he arrived. He would never forgive the woman for laying a hand on Selena. They glared at each other as he sat down, locked in a battle of wills. Erik was an expert in such fights and stared unwaveringly until Lady Turnour was forced to blink and look away, her eyes burning.

Lord Turnour seemed resigned to such a hatred between his wife and future son-in-law and so said nothing, remaining passive until the battle had ended. Only then did he cough, catching the attention of both waring individuals. "If you two would please be civil. I summoned you, Erik, because I thought you would be interested in knowing that the wedding shall take place on the first day of winter. I have sent a letter to Selena informing her of the matter and she will be returning soon to assist with the preparations. If there is anyone you would like to invite, I would recommend you do so swiftly."

A heavy weight escaped Erik's chest as he sighed in relief at Lord Turnour's words. Once they were married they would be free. They would be able to travel the world with no one to stop them. They would be free to do whatever they pleased. He would lay the world at her feet of only she would smile at him forever.

His beloved's mother, however, did not seem quite as pleased. Erik could practically see the smoke rising from her nostrils, not unlike an enraged bull. He had had a rather unfortunate encounter with one such creature in his younger years and would prefer to avoid a repetition of such a life-threatening situation, so when Lady Turnour's eyes turned to him in fury, he did not gloat, no matter how much the thought tempted him.

They ate mostly in silence after that. Lord Turnour had been prying for the past few days, trying desperately to learn all he could about his future son-in-law, but Erik was a master at speaking while saying nothing at all. Composing, architecture and art were hobbies for the upper class, not a job occupation. It would not do to let the man know of his very middle-class upbringing, much less his life after he fled his home. And God forbid they learn of what he truly did in Persia.

They were quietly munching on some fruit before they heard the unmistakable sound of the doorbell (it was impossible not to recognised due to the obnoxiously high pitch ring that tormented his ears every time he heard it). What he did not expect to hear, however, was the unmistakable Persian accent that the caller carried. While the Lord and Lady of the house looked at each other in confusion, not understanding why any guest would arrive so early in the morning, Erik felt his eyes widen as he recognised the voice.

Before decorum could stop him, he rose and almost ran to the door. He could see the butler trying to shoo the dishevelled looking men at the door away, but they stayed put, insisting that they had to speak to the Lord of the house. Erik strode to the door, and for some unknown reason that he would never fully comprehend, wrapped his arms around the older Persian gentleman. Nadir seemed startled, as if trying to discern whether Erik would suddenly begin to throttle him, but it was not long before his own arms wrapped around his friend's.

"I thought you were dead," Erik said in Persian. Though he had never admitted it, not even to himself, he had never expected to see Nadir again.

"It's good to see you too, old friend," Nadir replied, disentangling himself.

"And who is this?" Lady Turnour asked, making Erik turn on his heel. At some point, the Lord and Lady of the house had come to see what all the fuss was about, and Erik, distracted as he was by Nadir's surprising arrival, had not heard them. Perhaps he was growing soft now that danger had ceased to be his constant companion.

The daroga bowed low. "Nadir Khan, my lady, and my manservant Darius. I am a friend of Erik's and of your daughter. It is an honour to make your acquaintance."

The couple looked unimpressed, much to Erik's irritation. "They helped us escape. If it weren't for Nadir and Darius, we would most likely be dead… or worse."

Erik allowed the statement hang in the air, watching in amusement as the couple's gaze turned from angry, to fearful and finally to grateful.

Lord Turnour shook out of his reverie and walked to the Daroga, shaking his hand with such vigour, Erik feared it might fall off. Time had not been kind to the old Persian, who had become gaunt and pale, though he could not tell whether it was the result of torture or travel.

"I am ever so grateful to you, Mr Khan," Lord Turnour was saying. "Have you a place to stay?"

Nadir shook his head. "No, we hastened here as soon as we arrived to check whether Miss Turnour had arrived safely."

"Then you shall stay for as long as you need. We shall have a room prepared and clothes brought to you. I am certain you shall also be wanting a bath? It will be ready within the hour." He turned to the butler with a curt nod. "Have everything readied for our guests, Callaway."

The butler nodded and led the two exhausted Persians up the stairs. Erik excused himself, and departed back to his own room. There was much of interest to discuss with the daroga, but first, he would allow the two Persians to rest and recuperate from their journey.

He did not see the daroga again until that night, as they ate dinner in the formal dining room. Lord Turnour had insisted that they all attend, as a meal in honour of their new guests, and was recounting a tale of a particularly unsuccessful hunt that had resulted in an injured leg and a dead horse when a maddened boar had run at him.

Though Erik pretended to listen, he did not hear a word of what was being said. Instead he was watching the daroga, who ate his food avidly. The man was clearly unwell. On his wrists he could see the tell-tale signs of shackle scars and rope burns, so clearly he had not simply fled Persia, nor could he and Darius have remained for very long or he would not have arrived so soon after he and Selena had. Perhaps a few weeks then, at most. His hair had whitened considerably more than was normal and deep wrinkles cut across his forehead. Erik could see the faint trembling of his hands as he ate his food. The wheels of Erik's mind were already in motion as he began to concoct a medicine for the daroga's ailment.

The daroga quickly excused himself after dinner, stating that he was exhausted from his journey. Erik followed behind shortly after, quite desperate to speak to his friend in private, away from any prying ears that might compromise Selena even further.

He wasn't hard to find, as usual. Though Nadir excelled in careful vigilance, he was subpar when it came to subtlety, and Darius was even worse. They were in a secluded parlour in the west wing of the mansion, the room already filling with the smoke that drifted from their cigars. At his entry, Darius excused himself and departed, muttering that he would come if called upon.

"My dear Erik," Nadir said, clapping him on the back. "You must tell me of the great adventures you have undoubtedly partaken in since we last saw each other. You are incapable of staying out of trouble after all. And where is Selena?"

Erik desperately wanted to question the two Persians, but he supposed he owed the man a great debt, and so he told him what happened since he and Selena had fled Persia. He glossed over their dreary travels through the desert and took great care in speaking of Giovanni, and even of his mother, though he knew not why. He recounted the details of Lord Windermere's interfering ways and how they led to his engagement to Selena, and her departure to the countryside.

Nadir listened attentively to the tale, unwilling to interrupt until Erik finally finished and stood to pour himself a glass of wine from a nearby cabinet.

"A story for a story, dear Daroga," he drawled, taking a large swig of his wine. "Whatever happened to you?"

The daroga sighed and leaned back in his armchair, exhaustion and sadness tainting his features. "A couple of corpses just happened to wash up near the beach, dressed in your clothing. The rot had settled in far too much for it to be possible to determine if it was truly you so they accepted my lies, though they did not forgive my failure to return you alive. They locked me in a cell for two months before Darius successfully tricked the guards into leaving early and helped me escape. We travelled directly here, suspecting that you would come eventually."

"You lost your home for me, Nadir," Erik said mournfully.

Nadir shook his head, a small and sad smile upon his lips. "There was no home for me in Persia after Reza died. It is time I start anew, and I thought London would be as good of a place as any to start."

They sat in silence for a long while, Erik with his wine and the daroga with his cigar, thinking about those Rosy Hours in Mazandaran, when so much went wrong and so much went right. It was hard to decide if those years had been a curse or a blessing, the scales tipping precariously from one side to the other but never truly stopping at any point. Such was the way of life, one could never quite decide if it was more good than bad, or more bad than good.

"Tell me, Daroga," Erik said suddenly, a grin spreading across his face. "Would you assist me in a bit of mischief I have planned?"

Despite his usual hatred of Erik's pranks, for once the daroga decided to not only allow it but endorsed his little scheme. He had Darius assist with Erik's search through the city, and three nights later the three carried a large, withering bag through the night. Erik picked the lock to Lord Windermere's house and carefully they entered. He house was silent as a crypt, with the whole household being fast asleep and unaware of the intruders. They carried the bag up the stairs and to the master bedroom, where the Lord himself slept. Erik had found the blueprints to the mansion several days prior in a prominent architect's files and so their movement was swift and unhindered by any unsavoury incidents.

As quietly and delicately as mice, they sneaked into Lord Windermere's room. The man lay fast asleep in his bed, unaware of the intruders who lurked only a few feet away. Even in his sleep, the man oozed an inflated sense of self-importance, his nose still upturned, and his mouth still contorted into a scowl.

Carefully, Erik opened the large doors that led to the balcony and stepped out. Sure enough, there was a thick vine, easy to climb for even the most inexperienced of people, as he had found several days prior, during one of his searches around the house. It would not do to attempt something of this magnitude without an escape plan.

He nodded to the two Persians, who waited anxiously by the bag. With Erik's assent, the two men heaved the bag over the sleeping man and dumped the contents on him; large and hungry rats. As the man woke up screaming with dozens of rats scurrying and biting, the three men quickly climbed down the vine and fled into the night. Their escape route had been meticulously planned, following an uninhabited path on which they would surely remain unseen.

They were informed the next morning, over breakfast, that the Lord of Windermere had suddenly been taken to an institution, for even after all the rats had fled or been killed, he still screamed and writhed, trying desperately to get the animals off his person. The estate had been left to his young wife, until such time as Lord Windermere was well enough to return to the estate, though Erik very much doubted that would happen for many years, if ever.


End file.
